From afar, Markarth always seemed like an impenetrable fortress where nothing could ever threaten anyone.
Bishop and Aeyrin already knew that it was far from true.
Not only did it have Daedric Princes hiding in basements, but it also had some very nasty people around.
They were already bracing themselves for whatever could go wrong. The Silver-Bloods kept tabs on them the second they entered the city, that much had been clear for a long time now. Usually they only insisted that the two of them get out as fast as possible and don't interfere with their business. That was the plan this time around as well. They just wanted to get their piece of silver for the wedding, get their armors checked up and fixed up at the forge and then they would leave the next day. Simple and quick. And they would probably get a message from the Silver-Bloods again soon, or their lapdog would come hounding on them once more.
Regardless, Aeyrin and Bishop headed right towards the mines. They could buy a small piece of silver there, right? Or would the Orcish blacksmith share a bit of her material? Did she even have raw silver or did they only sell ingots to her?
Well, it was probably best to try the mine first. It was one sure place to have some. The question was whether they would sell it to anyone but blacksmiths or merchants.
There were a few people around the mines. It was really one of the only places around Markarth that actually looked… dismal. The miners were hauling out carts of silver towards the smelters outside. They weren't actually chained or anything. They didn't look like prisoners. But maybe these were only workers that operated outside like this. The actual mining was probably done inside behind some bars. Still, the priestesses up above once said that there was no poverty in Markarth. Everyone who wasn't living easy was down there in the mines – a prisoner. Definitely not citizens of the grand city.
But… who were these people then? They were dressed in filthy rags soaked in sweat and grime. They looked haggard and weak. They were certainly not rich. Not even mildly comfortable. Bishop and Aeyrin had seen people around the mines before, of course, but they never paid much attention to them.
Aeyrin wondered if they should approach one of these people, but something was stopping her. Or rather, someone.
There was a large Orc standing by the entrance to the mine. He looked very menacing, but he wasn't even dressed as some kind of enforcer. No heavy armor or a weapon at his side. He was actually clad in rather fancy clothing, almost like a noble. And he did have a… was that a whip on his belt? Really?
Every single worker that became the target of the Orc's gaze suddenly pushed themselves to work harder, faster, with palpable fear in their eyes.
It was a disturbing scene.
But talking to those workers alone would probably not be a good idea with the Orc hovering around. Especially since Cidhna Mine belonged to the Silver-Bloods. They might interpret this as 'butting in'. Aeyrin couldn't afford that. She was already on their revenge list. They just tolerated her begrudgingly for some reason. She was still so confused about their restraint after she had almost killed Thongvor.
But he started it.
Asshole.
No matter. She merely exchanged a look with Bishop and they both headed over to the Orc. If there was a person they could talk to 'officially', it was clearly him.
"What do you want?" The man huffed when they approached. He didn't sound annoyed, mostly just disinterested.
"We wanna buy a piece of silver from the mines. Are you the one to talk to about that?" Bishop answered when Aeyrin was busy watching the workers with concern etched on her face.
"A piece? Just a piece? We sell in bulk," the Orc scoffed. "What kind of piece?"
"A small one, to make a piece of jewelry or something like that," Bishop tried to explain.
"Ah. That shit for the Nordic marriage? Yeah, I've had some people here about this before," the Orc mused. Good, at least he knew what this was. That made things simpler. "Yeah, I can sell you… Hey!" Suddenly he yelled and he grabbed a hold of the whip at his hip. He promptly cracked it against the stone ground below his feet. All the workers in the area almost jumped and suddenly they all began to work much more quickly. The Orc clearly determined that they were slacking off while he was busy.
"So… the silver," Bishop tried to get the situation back on track when the man only glowered at the workers.
"Right. Right. Fine. I'll get you a piece. Hundred and fifty," the Orc nodded.
What? It was just silver! That was fucking expensive. Did it really need to be from Markarth? But… fine that was probably the point with the whole 'four edges' shit. They did have the money. Aeyrin still seemed distracted so Bishop just reached for his coin pouch to pay the man.
That was easy. The transaction went smoothly and the Orc promptly stopped one of the workers to pick out a pretty nice piece of silver from his cart. He handed it to Bishop without any hassle as he urged the worker to continue again.
"Thanks," Bishop merely nodded. That was done. Now they could…
"Who are these people? Are they prisoners too?" Aeyrin suddenly piped up, looking at the Orc with narrowed eyes.
Shit.
The Orc promptly scowled at her with an expression full of suspicion. Yeah… she was butting in.
"Bye," Bishop quickly tried to remedy the situation and he grabbed Aeyrin by the arm, dragging her away forcibly.
She did stay still for a while, still staring at the Orc, but she let herself be dragged away in only a moment. She didn't get an answer and the Orc was starting to look… scary. Maybe Bishop had the right of it.
They really shouldn't push their luck.
Bishop didn't let go of her as he led her only a short distance away, right towards the forge.
"Princess," he only let out an exasperated sigh as they stopped there. She looked quite bashful, but he knew her too well to know she wanted nothing more than to go back there and prod anyone for more answers.
"I know, sorry," she mumbled. Her eyes were still drawn to the mine below, but she tried hard to concentrate on what they needed to do now.
"Welcome back," the Orcish smith's voice served well to distract her. The towering woman gave them a small smile as she approached, leaving her apprentice to handle the forge for a moment. "Good to see you again. Are you here for touch-ups?"
"Yeah, we are," Aeyrin nodded, smiling back at her. "We got some wear in our armor."
"Pile it on and we'll take a look," the Orc gestured towards a wooden table near her forge.
"We also got this," Bishop showed her the lump of silver promptly.
"Yeeah… I could barely make a toothpick with that," the Orc scoffed. It was a rather small chunk of silver.
"It's not for armor and weapons. It's for… a jewelry piece, probably. People said the silver's used for jewelry to get the pearl in, usually," Bishop mused, a little bit only to himself, but the Orc heard him, of course.
"Oh. That. Yeah, I've had people ask about that before. Of course they would, the mine's right there. It's for that Nordic tradition, right?" She prodded, earning a brief nod from both Bishop and Aeyrin. "Congratulations. But… I can't do something so delicate. Unless you want a really chunky and sturdy jewelry piece. And for that, this isn't enough," she smirked.
"Oh. Are there any jewelry makers around?" Aeyrin asked.
"Some… but… if you want quality, I would recommend stopping by Dawnstar. The Redguard, the smith's wife there, she's really talented with this shit," the Orc nodded.
They could do that. They were headed for the blessing to Windhelm anyway and the road through Dawnstar was much better for the two of them than the one through Whiterun or Falkreath. They only shared a look in order to confirm that this was viable before Aeyrin gave the Orc another smile.
"Thanks. We'll go to her then. So… just the armor for us."
"Sure thing. I'll take a look and give you an estimate," the Orc turned around promptly to examine the damage on their armors.
They would take a while waiting here again. Bishop was already looking around nervously, waiting for the Silver-Bloods' messenger to pop up at any second.
They were surely going to get to the threatening again soon.
…
It was quite shocking, but nothing happened the whole day.
The Silver-Bloods' messenger never approached them and neither did anybody else for this purpose. The family was actually ignoring them for once. They didn't threaten them, they didn't try to chase them away from the city and there was absolutely no fallout from Aeyrin's nosy question down by the mine.
Why was it more unnerving than the usual stuff?
But maybe the suspicions and threats were really finally… over? Could that be true?
"You know, maybe Bryn is really effective with this shit," Bishop mused as the two of them made their way down the streets towards the inn for the night.
"Bryn?" Aeyrin asked. What did Bryn have to do with their grudge with the Silver-Bloods? Sure, he took care of that price on Aeyrin's head, but they had been to Markarth since that happened and nothing changed – they still got approached by the Silver-Blood lapdog.
"Yeah, I mean, he mentioned that he wants to make new deals with those shit-bags, right? It may have taken a while, but maybe he pulled through. And told them to leave us the fuck alone," Bishop shrugged.
It was odd of him to be so… optimistic. He usually wasn't. Maybe it was more wishful thinking. Aeyrin certainly didn't feel as hopeful.
"Bryn doesn't know about all the stuff that came after that bounty," she sighed. "He doesn't know they still consider us their enemies. Not to mention… you did tell the…"
"Yeah, you don't have to remind me," he grumbled. Yes, yes, he sent the Dark Brotherhood for Thongvor when he pretended to be their Listener. He still had no idea what came of that, but he was sure that they didn't kill Thongvor. They assumed he was the one calling them, right? That was based on the general information they knew about the Brotherhood by now.
They both went silent after that. It wasn't easy to be hopeful about the lack of interaction from the influential family, no matter how much they wished to be.
But those concerns were pushed aside soon as they spotted a familiar figure running towards them from the city entrance. He quickly flagged them down when he saw them and it looked like he doubled the speed of his sprint.
"Ooof," he huffed when he finally stopped in front of them, panting. "I know… I know you said… you'd be doing the dispels, but… haaah… oof." He didn't finish the sentence, but his point was clear. The courier apparently had a lot of trouble finding them. "I just… had to wait… till I'd see you. No other… way."
"That's fine. We understand. Hopefully one day we'll stop doing it," Aeyrin smiled at him apologetically. Once the Brotherhood was dealt with, they could finally afford to stop and get their letters actually on time.
"It's been months," the courier growled as he began to rummage in his pack for the letter. Or maybe letters – they had no idea what they got in the course of months.
"Yeah, well, we were in Cyrodiil anyway for the most of it," Bishop shrugged. They hadn't been back for too long yet.
The courier promptly shot him an angry deadpan look. He didn't speak again, but the meaning was once more very clear – he was looking for them for months around Skyrim while they were just... not there.
"What? Were we supposed to send you a fucking postcard? What else is there to do?" Bishop rolled his eyes. They weren't gonna stop the dispels and they weren't gonna be stuck in one place because of some letters. Besides, he was pretty sure nothing they would receive now would be too important.
The courier only grumbled as he finally handed them the letter. Only one. And it was a familiar one – the kind that Aeyrin usually got from Therien. The man did mention that he wrote to her once he got back to Cyrodiil safely.
It's hardly been 'months' though. Unless barely two months were too much for the man to carry one letter around.
"Can I please mark you again?" The courier whined.
"Sure. But we might have to dispel at some point again," Bishop shrugged. Shit happened.
"Fine, just… let me do it now, just in case," the man grumbled.
"Hey, how do you hide the spell, by the way?" Aeyrin asked curiously.
"That's a trade secret. It's classified. Can I assume, by that tone, that you two were the ones to make the Penitus Oculatus have all those questions for our representatives?" The man raised his brow.
"Maybe," Bishop grinned. "It's classified though."
The courier rolled his eyes in annoyance, but he didn't question further. He merely gestured for them to move a little behind the houses, not to be seen so blatantly, and then he let his hands light up with magic – one hand for each of them.
It was done soon and the courier ran off again, likely very grateful to be rid of them. And since they were hidden a little in the shade of the houses anyway, Aeyrin decided to open her letter right away.
.
My dearest Aeyrin,
I am writing to let you know that I have made it safe and sound into the chapel at the border. I did not expect to be smuggled in the way I was. It involved disguises and everything. Brunwulf was very comfortable with this process, surprisingly enough. Sometimes he scares me. In a good way. Does that make sense?
The chapel is a wonderful place. All the efforts put into it and into protecting these people are so inspiring. I do miss Chorrol already, but I cannot wait to contribute here, learn more about the faith we are trying to preserve and try to help these people in any way I can.
I can see Cyrodiil from here. It's comforting to see it, even though I can't see Chorrol itself. But everyone here assures me that it won't take that long to clear Gromm's Pass. I hope they will finish in time, I would love to visit whenever I wish, even if the journey takes long.
I hope you will come back to Skyrim soon. And I hope you will visit me when you do. Seeing you so recently made me miss you even more. Funny how that happens, isn't it?
May the Gods watch over you and may your faith be your everlasting guide.
Love, Therien.
.
Aeyrin felt herself getting choked up. Master Therien wrote this letter before he told her of his worsening condition and now she could see that knowledge of it in every word he wrote. It was still painful to think about. How had she never thought about it before – he was an old man! But through all her life, he always seemed… invincible. The best healer she knew, the one that could fix everything that was ever wrong with anyone.
He couldn't fix time though.
"What's wrong?" Bishop scowled when he noticed her expression.
Crap, she didn't mean to get emotional like this. It was not as if the letter was bad news or anything.
"Nothing. Sorry, I just…" she shook her head at herself. At least she didn't start outright crying, but she felt that her voice quivered a little. And of course, Bishop's expression soon shifted from worried to understanding. He could read her so well.
"Hey," he pulled her by her waist to move her into his embrace. "He's fine now, right? We just saw him. He's good, he's alive. You don't have to worry about what happens however-long in the future."
Yeah, he was right, of course. And the letter didn't really say anything bad, but being reminded of it all just felt crappy no matter what.
"I'm alright," she sighed, but she snuggled into his arms regardless for a bit before she pulled away again. They should be going to the inn, but she just wanted a moment in his warm embrace after the thoughts flooded her head again.
It helped chase them off a bit.
…
The inn was quite lively that night, but fortunately Bishop and Aeyrin still managed to get a room and a table in the corner of the common room.
It's been a surprisingly uneventful day. Pleasantly so. And now they could spend the rest of it equally relaxed in the merry atmosphere that permeated through the air. A bard was singing on the other side of the room, two servers were running around hectically and the soft murmur of other patrons filled the occasional moment of quiet in between songs. And none of it included any sightings or threats from the Silver-Bloods.
It was perfect, really. Maybe they should stay longer? They both liked Markarth, but they had always been forced out before.
"Hi, welcome to the Silver-Blood inn," a young blond Nord approached their table to take their order. She looked them over for a second, and then her face lit up oddly when she stopped at Bishop's face. "Oh hi, you," she grinned.
Aeyrin promptly tensed. She was kind of used to this reaction by now, but she still always tensed up a bit. She knew what that face meant. This was very likely one of Bishop's previous one-night 'acquaintances'. No wonder – a pretty girl in a tavern. That was the usual pattern.
"Uhm… do I know you?" Bishop gave her a surprised scowl.
He didn't remember her? That made the situation even more awkward. Aeyrin slid down in her chair a bit as if it would help her make herself invisible. She hoped the girl would just let it slide and take their order.
"Yeah, don't you remember?" The girl chuckled. She still kept her cheery face on, but she looked a bit surprised.
"Sorry," Bishop shrugged. This was always a shitty situation, though he got taken aback when he didn't even vaguely recall her face. He usually remembered. It would have to be a strange night for him to forget a girl that thoroughly. He was pretty sure he knew how she 'knew' him, but he didn't recall any night with her at all. It was disturbing. It only served as a reminder how painfully empty his previous dalliances were. He was glad that he was done with that.
"Oh… uhm…" the girl shifted on the spot, clearly starting to get uncomfortable too. She briefly looked at Aeyrin, likely wondering whether Bishop refused to acknowledge their history in front of her.
"Look, I'm sorry, but… it's been years," Bishop sighed. He really usually remembered. But it had been years.
"What? No! It's been several months or so," the girl promptly shook her head in confusion.
Aeyrin's eyes went wide in shock instantly. What? Several months? How was that possible?! Bishop wasn't even here for months. And… she was with him every time they were in Markarth. He wouldn't cheat on her! And he sure as the Void wouldn't sneak out of their room to do so. Would he? No, no, of course not.
"That's… not true. I'm pretty sure you're mistaking me for someone," Bishop quickly shook his head before he turned his gaze on Aeyrin. "I swear, I didn't…"
"I know," Aeyrin quickly reassured him. He wouldn't. But… the situation still filled her head with doubts. She hated that. She trusted him completely. Why would she be getting insecure?
"What? Oh!" The girl smacked her forehead suddenly and she looked at Aeyrin as well. "No, we didn't sleep together, if that's what you're thinking. I promise, nothing like that."
Oh. Alright. Good. Aeyrin let out a little sigh of relief, but she tried to stifle it as best as she could not to let Bishop know that she let those thoughts get to her. It wasn't fair to him.
"Wait, so how do we know each other?" Bishop looked at her face properly again. It really didn't ring a bell. Maybe he had seen her around the inn sometimes, but he wasn't sure at all. Nothing stuck.
"Well, you were here one night, looking for the r-… uuuh," the girl suddenly stammered, uncertain on how to proceed.
"Looking for what?" Bishop scowled. What the fuck was going on?
"Well… now I don't know if I can say…" she bit her lip nervously. What did that mean? Was he looking for someone else? And when the fuck was this exactly? "Wait, hang on." The girl suddenly reached for Aeyrin's hand and, in her confusion, Aeyrin let her take a hold of it. The server only examined it briefly and then she let out a relieved sigh of her own. "Alright. Good. I can talk about this."
"About what?" Bishop was still so confused.
"The ring," she pointed to Aeyrin's hand. "You don't remember? A few months ago you came here, drunk off your ass, and you were complaining that someone stole the ring from you."
"This ring?" Bishop blinked at her in disbelief. What? Nothing like that happened. Nobody stole that ring – he had it the entire time.
"Well… I assume. You said you had a ring for your girl and someone stole it. You wanted a new one and you went to rob the temple of Dibella for their gems," the girl chuckled. "I was keeping your armor and things safe while you were gone."
Wait, what? What the fuck? That never happened. What the fuck was she blabbing about? Robbing the temple? Even he wasn't that fucking dumb.
"No, nobody stole the ring, I've had this the whole time," Bishop shook his head. "I really think you're mistaking me for someone."
"No, I'm not. I know you were drunk that night, but the next day you were sober and I told you all of this before too. You had no idea what you did that night, just that you woke up in the temple and got kicked out."
"Wait, when was this supposed to all happen?" Aeyrin looked at her in confusion. None of this made sense. They hadn't been in Markarth for ages and even when they were, they were together and sober. They'd been mostly sober before their journey to Cyrodiil for a long time, in fact. Ever since that one bender when they… wait…
"I don't know… Sun's Dawn, I think?" the girl pondered.
"What? That's like five months ago. Was this after Blackreach?" Bishop shook his head. They did stop by here after that to talk to Calcelmo and get their new armors. But they didn't stay the night and they were certainly not drunk. And Aeyrin was the one with the ring by then.
"No, it was before that," Aeyrin looked at him somberly. "You remember? Those… those five days?" They had forgotten everything that happened to them during five whole days. Was this part of that? The dates checked out.
"But we weren't in Markarth," Bishop scoffed.
"We woke up in a weird fort at the other end of the Province. What do we know where we'd been?" Aeyrin threw up her hands.
"What in the Void were you two drinking?" The girl gaped at them.
"Cursed rum," Bishop grumbled. Now he really believed Jack about the curse. This was insane. He really lost the ring? What a fucking drunken idiot.
"That doesn't sound like something you should drink," the girl giggled. "I'm Hroki, in case you forgot," she winked at Bishop. "So what exactly happened to you? Tell me. I'll enlighten you on what I can."
"We don't know. We just… drank some rum in Rorikstead and the next thing we knew, we woke up in some fort in Eastmarch. It was five days later," Aeyrin tried to explain. That was really all they knew.
"I never heard of a drunken stupor that would last that long," Hroki shook her head in disbelief. "I only met you one night," she nodded at Bishop. "You were completely wasted, complained about some assholes in Riverwood who stole a ring you had for your girl. You needed a new one so I joked that you should get some jewels from the priestesses. You actually went with it. Said you'd rob them. I thought you were joking, but you left your things for me to watch over and you left. The next day you came, hungover, but sober. You didn't recognize me then either and I just… told you exactly that. And I gave you your stuff back. That's all I know."
That was insane. It made no sense. Why would they not remember any of it? And where was Aeyrin during this?
"She wasn't with me?" Bishop asked, gesturing to Aeyrin.
"No. But you asked if I'd seen her. I haven't," Hroki shook her head. "Did you find the ring then? Is this the same one?" She pointed to the ring on Aeyrin's finger.
"Yeah. It's exactly the same one," Bishop shrugged. He had no other rings for her at that time.
"Well… I guess you got it back, then," Hroki only shrugged. She looked a bit disturbed with the tale, but no more than Aeyrin and Bishop were. "I wish I could tell you more, really."
"That's alright. Thank you for telling us this at least," Aeyrin gave her a weak smile. What else was there to say? Would more answers be in Riverwood? And more importantly – did they even want more answers? Maybe it was alright not to remember the crazy five days. Maybe they blocked out the memories on their own for some reason.
"So… uhm… nice to meet you two, officially, hopefully for the last first time," Hroki chuckled a little. "Now, what can I get you?"
They ordered their drinks and dinner and waited for Hroki to leave. When she was gone, they only shared a confused look.
"You really don't remember any of it? When she was telling it, it didn't… remind you or something?" Aeyrin asked. Sometimes it happened, right? The flashes came back after a blackout when the person was reminded.
"Nothing at all. None of it rang any bells," Bishop sighed. "It's so fucking creepy. What the fuck happened back then? And why weren't you with me?"
"I have no more answers than you do," she sighed. She wished she knew where she had been, but she didn't get any memories back either.
"Well… guess we won't figure that out," he grumbled. "I'm just a little relieved I didn't actually fuck her and forget her," he chuckled a bit. He hadn't slept with that many women for that to happen to him.
"Why?" Aeyrin cocked her head at him. True, it would have probably hurt Hroki if that was the case. But she didn't think he would mind something like that happening that much. At least not with how meaningless he kept saying his past dalliances were.
"I don't know," he shrugged. He kinda knew. Sometimes it was hard to believe how much he changed, how little he used to care about… anyone. He still didn't like caring about strangers too much, but… there was still that weird image in his head of the ruthless bandit that never stopped to think about who he was hurting. This would just mean he cared even less than he had thought. He didn't like thinking about that image of himself that still creeped into his head sometimes. "Guess it… it just makes my past self into an even bigger bastard."
"You think you were a 'bastard' because you had these… nights with women?" Aeyrin looked at him with a bit of concern on her face. Why? Weren't a lot of people doing this? And from how he always put it, he didn't exactly mislead the women, did he? They were in it for the same thing, right?
He shrugged again. He wasn't sure how to explain it. Maybe it was also that he was acutely aware that he had gone all his life before without being able to experience what he had with Aeyrin now. But then again, if he had, he might have never even met her. Maybe that ruthless bandit did him a favor in the end.
"Don't worry about it, princess," he smiled at her reassuringly. "I'm just glad I have something much more important now with you."
Aeyrin promptly returned his smile. He looked kind of somber before, but she really hoped his past didn't bother him. Which was a strange thought since she knew damn well that despite all rationality, it did bother her when they were confronted with one of his previous acquaintances.
But as long as it all stayed in the past and nobody would ever shock her like that with talks of 'few months ago', she was alright with it. Besides, she was the only one who actually cheated on him with that Altmer in…
Nope. Don't think about that.
The day had been so surprisingly pleasant, it was really best to concentrate on keeping it that way.
…
The next morning continued in the same calm manner as the previous day.
So much so that Aeyrin and Bishop had actually started to discuss staying in the city and exploring the area around like they did in so many other places.
Sure, it was a bit more precarious in the Reach, mainly due to the Forsworn clans. But then again, was it really that different from venturing to dragon lairs or dealing with bandits and monsters? Dangers were everywhere. And while the Forsworn were formidable enough to give them pause, they could hopefully just avoid their camps and only deal with any potential ambushes.
Besides, not all Forsworn were going to attack them blindly. Every time they were in the area, Aeyrin wondered for a bit what Robin and Cael were up to. Until she had met them, she had no idea that the 'barbarians' as Bishop liked to call them, along with every other person in Skyrim, were not all that menacing. Not all of them at least. The last time she saw Cael was that day he saved her from Thongvor. The first and last time. She still had that pretty bracelet he gave her stashed somewhere in Breezehome. She almost forgot about it. Then again, she almost forgot about Cael altogether. She was only reminded whenever the topic of Forsworn came into question or mind. Robin and her friend, whose name Aeyrin couldn't recall, were more fresh in her mind after the whole mess with Azshan and that woman who had been kidnapping the Forsworn mages. But that was the last time she saw any of them too.
Oh wait! Didn't she see that friend of Robin's be hauled off into Cidhna Mine? She almost forgot about that.
Well, those idle thoughts turned depressing quickly. And Bishop was no help in distracting her as he still peered into their map in concentration.
"Anything interesting?" She prodded, eager for him to start talking about adventures instead.
"There are big Nordic ruins all over the place, but I don't know which are occupied by those fucks," Bishop mumbled. "There's a Dwemer ruin southeast of here, but…"
"Yeah, let's not go for that much adventure," she chuckled. She still felt kind of overwhelmed from Blackreach even after all this time. It didn't sound tempting.
"Agreed. So there's this barrow to the north. Could be worth a look and it's pretty close. Two hours, three maybe. We don't even have to cross the river," he mused.
That sounded good. They could be back by the evening if things went well.
Before Aeyrin could answer though, she got interrupted. Someone bumped into their table in the crowded tavern and had to steady himself on it. The tankards with their drinks spilled over a little, but it wasn't too much. It was more of a surprise. Such a mundane thing to happen that neither of them even bothered to look at the man properly.
But when he mumbled an apology and moved on, Aeyrin noticed something.
Was that a note on the table? Did he leave it behind?
Bishop didn't seem to notice it at all as he continued staring into the map and drinking his mead. So Aeyrin looked around promptly to see if she could locate the man.
The tavern was really crowded though. And she didn't even know what he looked like. She only saw a sleeve of his white shirt as he touched the table. That wasn't helpful.
Oh well. What was that note anyway?
"What'cha got there?" Bishop's eyes finally snapped back to her when he saw her reach out and grab something.
Aeyrin didn't answer as she unfurled the note. First reading, then she would tell him.
.
Things may seem calm, but you are in grave danger. Leaving won't save you anymore. Their silence is more dangerous than their threats.
Come see me.
Nepos the Nose