Chapter 6

Fredas 21th of Frostfall, 3E 432

Mari sat on the kitchen table and stared out of the window. It had started to snow sometime during the night and now the world outside was tinged in grey and white shades. She heaved a heavy sigh. Those were not the heavy snowstorms yet, but it would make for a cumbersome trip to the town. Her gaze shifted over to the stable and the horse Sorilkad had left her. It was a heavy warhorse of tall stature and muscular build and powerful heavy-boned legs with a good deal of feathering. Though she was still a little shocked to find out that her friend was no ordinary mage, she appreciated everything he had done for her so far. Mari began to suspect, that he dappled in necromancy, though Mari had always imagined Necromancers to be more dark and … well evil. She admired and acknowledged his cunning shrewdness if he was one. And his courage to practise the dark arts even though the Guild had outlawed necromancy. A small smile graced her lips as she finally turned away from her window. Opposite her sat Fara. Mari had let her inside as soon as she discovered that snow had fallen. The Breton woman took a sip from her tea and tilted her head sideways in thought.

"What shall I do, Fara? Sorilkad warned me about going to Bruma."

The skeleton mirrored her posture but of course, stayed silent. Mari had learned that the undead were great listeners and understood basic commands. Now that some days had gone by, Mari wasn't as unsettled as she had been by the sight of the undead Bosmer. It did give her a sense of security knowing that Fara was with her. Never resting always vigilant.

If Edin would sneak up here, he would be in for one big surprise.

She thought with a sly grin on her face, which soon faded. Another sip of her tea. In her mind, she could still hear Sorilkad's warning.

Edin will not let go so easily. You are in danger, as is that asshole mage. That Nord will take revenge on him as well

Mari bit her lower lip. Sorilkad was right of course. Edin had already killed her horse in his delusion that she would stay with him. There was no doubt in her mind, that he would indeed harm Uvani.

Or pay someone to harm him.

She stood up and Fara mirrored her again.

"I need to go to Bruma, Fara. I have a friend there who is in danger."

Mari paused a moment. Did she imagine it, or was the guardian nodding her head no. She shook herself and pulled her thick winter coat around her, but as she reached for her door, thin bony fingers landed lightly on her arm. Mari raised her gaze to empty eye sockets. Maybe it was just her, but Fara seemed to have a concerned look on her bony features. The Breton put her warm hand over the skeletal one.

"I know, Sorilkad does not want me to go. I'll be careful, I promise."

The skeletal hand fell away from her, but Fara followed her as she walked out. The icy wind tugged on her clothes and hair angrily. She looked around, the light had been gloomy the whole day, and she was sure night would fall soon. She hurried over to the stable where Fetcher greeted her with a low nicker. She caressed his broad soft nose before she started to saddle him. Fara, ever vigilant, stood behind her, while Fetcher tried to nib at the skeleton. Mari smiled, it was obvious, that the horse was used to the skeleton. Mari had heard rumours about Chadlew Chapel being desecrated by necromancers and knew that Sorilkad lived there when he was not at the Imperial City. It made her wonder if the grave wounds he had suffered had anything to do with the desecration of the building. But soon she pushed that thought aside, leading the big horse out of the stable and to a bucket, she needed to get onto the horse. A few moments later she thundered down the road to Bruma

Alval stopped to draw a breath. Even though he was used to walking everywhere the chill air and steep climb took their toll on him. Besides, he did not have the best night's sleep, as usual, these days. Not only because he was thinking about a certain Breton, but also because of the troubles in the Dark Brotherhood. By now, Lachance should have had a meeting with the newest addition to his sanctuary to discuss the Purification with him. Alval sighed.

What a shame. Good, efficient assassins lost.

The Dunmer let his gaze roam, while he put his frozen stiff fingers under his armpits.

I'm getting too old for this...

He thought, his scowl deepening.

And the snow is not making it any easier.

The snow in front of him had not been disturbed, and he wondered if Mari would come to town if the snow kept falling at this rate. A cold breeze blew down from the mountains and he shivered, only now realising, that his clothes were wet and clung to his body. His feet were cold and wet as well. He heaved a heavy sigh, looking forward to drying in front of a fireplace. Sure he could have called on his magicka and warm himself, but then again, the road was dangerous. Often enough he was jumped by bandits or chased by goblins and minotaurs. As he walked on, his mind began to wander. Back to a life, when everything seemed so easy. To a life where he had it all. A less dangerous job, or so he thought. A home of his own. True his home back in Vvardenfell wasn't as luxurious as his house in Leyawiin, but it was his. And finally back to his wife. His beautiful wife with her big red eyes. Alval shook his head, his scowl for once replaced by a sad expression. He had loved her, had done everything for her and he had been truly happy. But things had changed and he had fled Morrowind. He came to Cyrodiil a young but broken, bitter man. And he stayed this way for all his adult life.

It was then, that he was recruited to the Dark Brotherhood and he was able to redirect his constant anger to the unfortunate souls on his contract lists. He had nursed his anger and bitterness until he became Speaker and still basically hated everyone. He had found his place on Tamriel and was content with it.

Again he stopped and looked up the road, asking himself if that was true. Lately, however, he wasn't so sure if he had chosen the right path in life. Lately, he found himself yearning for everything he had left behind. He sighed again shivering miserably in the cold. He would not abandon the Dark Brotherhood and he could not, since he had signed a contract for life, signed in blood. They had offered him food and shelter when he needed it most, and a family, though he had stayed distant to his brothers and sisters.

His thoughts wandered back to his wife, even though he had tried to bury those memories in the deepest vaults of his mind. But gradually her crimson-coloured irises turned blue until they looked like the sky on a clear winter's morning. The Dunmer shook himself, banning those eyes, and those thoughts out of his mind. It was then, that he realised how tired he was. Stifling a yawn, he forced himself to start walking again.

I'm too old.

He thought for the umpteenth time this day.

I should stay in Leyawiin and have my Silencer come to me.

His fingers began to hurt from the cold and he finally called upon his magic to warm himself up a bit.

I'm not made for the cold...

He thought miserably and tried to pick up the pace, but the steep climb and the snow made it hard for him to walk. He could already feel the cold creep into his bones.

"I'll blow the next living being to cream corn who dares to look at me funny..."

He growled, gaze fixed to the horizon and fought the wind and snow on the steep road.

Mari shot the stablehand the dirtiest look she could muster and put Fetcher into the pen. As she walked by she hissed:

"If you allow him to take my horse again, I'll skin you alive!"

Before she made a beeline straight for the main gate wondering where that came from. But also wondered why the stable hand had visibly paled as she had turned up. It was like he was scared of her. At the gate, she passed by Rallan Venoncius, who greeted her with a small nod. The small woman returned the gesture and headed straight for Olav's Tap and Tack. It was already dark and Mari clung to the shadows as best as she could, looking constantly over her shoulder. But she could get no climbs of Edin, which she was grateful for. She pushed the door open and took her thick leather gloves off. Olav straightened as his gaze fell on her and his face lit up with a smile.

"Mari!"

He called out.

"What a pleasant surprise. Have you heard the latest rumours already?"

Mari settled at the counter an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"What kind of rumours? Please don't tell me Edin is spreading more lies about me."

Olav laughed.

"No...but it does concern you to some degree."

Mari swallowed.

"I don't like where it's going."

"Nah I think you'll like this one. And to be honest I don't think it's more than the drunken ramblings of a man with a bad conscience. Branalf the stable hand turned up to the guards with quite the story this morning. He told them, that he went out last night to look after the horses, and your old mare was standing in the pen. Dead and mutilated like she had been found. And she came and went with a necromancer."

Mari paled a bit, the uneasy feeling in her stomach growing stronger. There was only one person she knew of, who could be a necromancer. One very dear to her.

"A necromancer?"

She managed, her eyebrows wandering up on her forehead. She wanted to sound surprised, but she could not banish the concern in her voice. Olav chuckled light-heartedly.

"Yeah. With the robe and everything. The necromancer threatened him, that if he ever gave a horse to Edin again, he would end up as an undead thrall."

Mari bit her lips. It did sound like Sorilkad. And it would explain, why the poor stable hand had looked so frightened when she had turned up. Another thought crossed her mind. Necromancy was punished by death, and Sorilkad had quite a remarkable face.

Sorilkad, are you intent on getting yourself killed?

She thought before she asked.

"Did he say what the necromancer looked like?"

"Yeah...that's the best. He told them, he was abnormally large. A hulking menace, as black as the night. And his eyes glowed green..."

Relief washed over the little woman, and a small smile tugged on her lips. With that description, Sorilkad would not get recognised. She knew she should have had more faith in her friend. The Dunmer with his blind eye and facial markings knew very well that he stood out amongst the citizens of Cyrodiil like a sore thumb. He knew to avoid detection as it would appear.

Olav reached over the table and put his huge hand over Mari's small one.

"See, I knew you would like it. Don't worry, there are no necromancers here in Bruma. Brandalf was probably just drunken silly and had a nightmare."

Mari's smile grew wider.

"A necromancer would be a new addition to our vampires, vampire hunters, regular cutthroats and crazy Nords, don't you think."

They shared a good laugh, but soon Olav grew serious again.

"So what made you come here? I thought I would not see you here in a while after all that happened the last couple of days."

Mari's smile vanished in an instant, remembering the warning her friend had given her.

"I needed to come. Is Uvani here already?"

A puzzled expression crossed the old Nord's face.

"No. He's unusually late."

Mari pressed her eyes shut for a moment, fearing that Edin had already gotten to the Dark elf.

"Shit..."

Behind his counter, Olav drew in a deep breath before leaning forward on his huge hands.

"Mari. What's up? You really should stay away from..."

The little Breton put her hand on Olav's, shutting him up.

"No. I need to talk to him. I think he's in danger. And now that I think of it, you may be too."

The publican shook his head.

"Mari, I fear I don't understand. Why should I be in danger..."

Mari took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down.

"Edin. He has gone crazy Olav. He has killed my poor old horse. And I fear that he will come after Uvani because he thinks I have a relationship with him."

Olav held his hands up at the confusing torrent that came out of the woman's mouth.

"Would you please slow down, at the moment it's you, who's sounding a little crazy."

The Breton bit her lips, fixing her gaze on her hands. She knew she was making no sense at all, but she was so anxious. Anxious, that Edin might find her here, but even more afraid, that he would hurt someone innocent in his delusions. She started to play with her wedding band, while unshed tears stung her eyes. She felt angry and helpless and frustrated, that no one would listen to her. As she looked up, Olav's gaze grew sympathetic.

"Have you reported Edin after what happened last week?"

Mari nodded weakly.

"Yes, but to no avail. Burd would not help me. He thinks Edin is a harmless love-stricken fool with bad manners. But... "

Mari stopped herself before falling into a rant again. Olav nodded, wiping his counter, before tossing the towel over his shoulder.

"I see, how that frustrates you. If you want the advice of an old barkeep. Ignore Edin, don't talk to him, don't look at him, if he follows you go straight to the guards. As for that grumpy old Dunmer. Avoid Uvani. He's not worth your time. I've owned this tavern for a very long time and he's been a regular for as long as I can remember. Never once had he been friendly to anyone. He's has always been cold distant and rude."

The old Nord stopped for a moment and chuckled dryly.

"I was quite surprised that he acknowledged you enough to get in the line of fire and share his wine."

Mari looked up, desperation bright in his eyes. She knew by the Nord's tone, that he would not discuss anything further about that matter.

"He will not hurt me. I'll wait for Uvani here if you don't mind."

Olav shook his head in resignation and opened his mouth, but at this moment the front door opened letting a gust of cold air in. Both Nord and Breton turned simultaneously towards to door to see a freezing Dunmer on the threshold.

Uvani stopped short on the threshold as he saw the two staring at him and he immediately knew they had been talking about him. His scowl deepened as he asked himself what they were bitching about. He was pretty pissed as it was he didn't need people to talk behind his back. He fixed his irate glare to Mari, just as her eyes went round with fear. Then pain exploded on his forehead as someone slammed his head right into the doorframe once and then a second time. Vaguely he felt someone dragging him by the neck out into the cold again. In his daze, he heard a guard shout something he couldn't make out over the ringing of his ears and someone giving them an answer. And then he landed face-first in the snow, which shocked him back into consciousness. He tried to push himself up on his hands and knees, noticing the blood dripping down and out of his nose onto the snow. He tried to concentrate on a spell, but his head hurt too much. And then his attacker stomped on one of his hands, crushing it. Alval couldn't hold back a pained cry but still tried to stand up.

"Try using magic with broken hands."

Someone screamed uncomfortably close to his ears, making his head hurt even worse. He still tried to focus on his attacker but he was having double vision. Edin smirked down at the helpless mage. He would make sure that he would never put a finger on his Sweetroll ever again. He drew his leg back and kicked the Darkelf with all his might. It felt a little like kicking a feather-filled leather ball. His smirk grew, he liked that feeling and he kicked the elf again and again. In the head, stomach, groin, everywhere he could get him, though Uvani had rolled up into a ball and tried to protect his organs.

"You Elves are all the same! All flash and no fury!"

Edin bent down and turned the Dark elf on his back. Alval groaned in protest but found not the strength to protest the Nord. His whole body was in agony. He looked up into the Nord's face, and though the vision out of the one eye, that wasn't swollen shut was blurry, he could see the intent on the young man's face. He was here to kill him. Edin reached forward patting Alval's swollen cheek.

"Don't worry, it'll be over soon. You understand that I need to make sure, Mari is mine. And mine alone. You are in the way."

Alval opened his mouth but a coughing fit shook his whole body. Edin stood up and stomped down on the elf's chest. He could feel the bones breaking. Uvani rolled over in pain, spitting blood and bile. He knew he needed to do something. His good hand wandered to his hip where his dagger Scalding was.

If only I could get one good stab at him...

Alval thought desperately, but he was in too much pain and the dagger fell out of his numb hand. Beside him, he heard Edin laugh. The Nord had watched the Dunmer's feeble attempt to fight back and found it rather amusing.

"Don't even try."

Edin teased coldly.

"By the Nine, to think Mari got herself involved with you. You are old, pathetic and weak. Best I put you out of your misery."

Alval's eye widened a bit, as he saw Edin picking up a rock and knew that he was in no position to defend himself. If he hadn't been in such pain, he would have laughed at the irony. A seasoned assassin killed by a love-stricken youngster.

"Nightmother grand me strength."

He mumbled between coughs and tried to brace himself for the impact. And then she was at his side, shielding him with her body.

"Edin, you madman! Stop it!"

She cried. Alval could hear the desperation and fear in her voice. Fear for him.

"GET AWAY FROM HIM! YOU ARE MINE!"

Edin roared, lifting the rock even higher. He was seeing red by now. If he couldn't get her, no one would.

"No!"

Mari's gaze fell on Uvani's dagger, he had picked up again. Gently, she pried his fingers open and took it out of his shaking hand. She brought herself into a defensive position between the broken elf and the angry Nord. Edin just laughed at her. The woman swallowed dryly. His eyes were hard and narrow and full of insanity. Her grip around the dagger tightened.

"Back off, Edin or I'll hurt you."

A smug smile appeared on the man's face as he dropped the rock down and closed his distance to the Breton until the tip of the dagger rested against his chest.

"Then do it. Stab me. But I know you can't do it because you love me."

A chill ran down Mari's back as she stared up at Edin. Could she stab him? She was a healer after all. But at the moment she saw no other alternative. If she did not act now, he would kill the poor Dunmer and probably harm her as well. She drew a deep breath and prepared herself.

To her relief, a loud voice behind Edin bellowed right at that moment.

"Stop right there, criminal scum! Nobody breaks the law on my watch!"

Rolling his eyes Edin turned towards Rallan and his fellow guards, who came running with their swords drawn.

"I told you he at..."

"We don't believe you, Edin. We have witnesses who told us otherwise. This time you've gone too far. For this assault, it's off for the lockup!"

Rallan said, his voice commanding. Edin's furious gaze fell on the guards, then on Mari and at last on the shivering bleeding elf. He spat.

"You are making a mistake!"

The guards grabbed him by the arms and started to lead him away. Mari heard Edin protest, but her full attention was on the Dunmer. She knelt beside him, gently cupping his cheeks.

"It'll be alright now."

She said, tears falling. All the blood and his injuries brought back painful memories.

"Just hang on, you hear, Uvani."

Uvani nodded weakly, though the darkness was pulling him down. The world around him spun in mad circles and his body was in agony but felt numb at the same time. He was losing the fight though and the last thing he felt before the darkness took him, where her warm hands on his cheeks.

Mari hurried home, trying to cradle Uvani's unconscious form against her. She was incredibly grateful to Sorilkad, that he had given her his horse, for Fetcher was as swift as he was strong. With her mare, she would have never been able to bring him home. Sure, she could have had him carried into the chapel but she didn't want to be in Bruma. Not right now, and not with him in this state.

"Please hold on, Uvani. We're as good as home. I'll make it better I promise."

She cried though she knew he would not respond. His breathing had gotten shallow and ragged and she could feel his ribs move beneath his skin weirdly. Fetcher thundered down the last stretch of road, her homestead already in view. As soon as she arrived she jumped down and called out for Fara. The skeleton guardian came running it had picked up on her distraught tone of voice.

"Fara, please help me carry him inside."

The skeleton understood and they both half carried half dragged the elf inside. Once there, Mari lay him down on her bed and while giving some orders to Fara, she began to unbutton his burgundy shirt. She drew a sharp breath in as she finally saw his torso. For once, his whole upper body was littered with faint burn scars, which made her curious. But she could also clearly see where his ribs were broken as the chest caved in. Some bones had pierced the skin and stuck out like accusing bloody fingers. And there was a huge, foot-sized bruise. Carefully she ran her hand over his chest, feeling the ribs move in every direction with each laboured breath, knowing that some of them surely had pierced his lung as well. She let her hand wander down. There were more bruises on his stomach, which looked bloated and hard to the touch. Mari bit her lips, as this was a clear sign, that his abdominal cavity was filling up with blood. Edin's kicks must have ruptured one or more organs. She struggled to get him out of his pants, there were more bruises along his thighs and lower legs, but those she did not need to bother with. Nothing looked broken there. Finally, she moved to assess his face and guilt hit her. His whole left side was purple and swollen. Carefully she pressed her fingers against his zygomatic bone only to feel it move under the pressure. It was quite clear that both his cheekbone and jaw were broken, as well as his nose and fingers of the right hand. And there was a nasty wound on his head, which had bled heavily on their whole way home. She only could hope, that his brain wasn't injured. She hurried to get some Restore magicka potions out of her cabinet and then settled next to the bed.

"This is my fault,"

She told herself, fighting back tears. She pressed her hands against his chest and abdomen and conjured up her magic. She let her healing spell run through his body. All the while her heart pounded in dread. She was afraid, that he would die and she would be unable to help him. Afraid, that his blood would be on her hands. Afraid to lose someone again.

Captain Burd stared at the young Nord on the other side of the cell door. He looked miserable enough right now.

"Now tell me, Edin, what was all the fuss about?"

Edin sighed.

"I can't remember, it happened so fast. I saw her getting attacked and I saved her from the fucking Greyskin."

Burd shook his head in resignation.

"Edin, if you tell the truth, then you don't have to have a good memory. And I know you are lying to me!"

Edin slammed his fist against the cell door.

"Why is nobody believing me!"

He roared in a sudden fit of anger. Burd crossed his arms in front of his massive chest.

"For one, I have a witness telling me, that Mari had been at Olav's already waiting for the Dunmer, as you attacked him. Secondly, I talked to her on Morndas. She was very upset with you, told me you had assaulted her in some way and that the Dunmer helped her."

Edin stared at the Captain for a long time before his gaze dropped to the ground.

"Fine! The Dunmer did nothing. I was just angry."

Burd sighed and uncrossed his arms.

"Why?"

"I want Mari to be with me. Instead, she ignores me and spends her time with that Greyskin. Have you looked at him? He's ancient!"

"Edin, that's none of your business. Mrs Parean wants nothing to do with you. If she chooses to be with a Dunmer, even an ancient one, it is her choice. You cannot force her into a relationship."

Burd paused and rubbed his thumbs over the ridge of his brows in a tired gesture.

"Listen, Edin. Your father was a good friend of mine. He was a good man. I'm sure he'd be rolling in his grave if he could see you now. Stop following that woman. She has no interest. If you want to find a girl, visit Skyrim. They have beautiful strong women."

Again the older Nord paused, looking Edin over. By now, he looked miserable.

"You can call yourself lucky the elf did not die. Can you pay the 40 Septims?"

Edin shook his head no.

"I only have 15 with me."

Burd nodded but unlocked the door anyway.

"Listen. Because I still owe your father a favour, I'll let you go. But if you get yourself into trouble again, I'll let you rot in prison. Understood?"

Again, an unusual sheepish Edin nodded and left the prison with his head hanging low between his shoulders.