Chapter XXIII – Vengeance and Gratitude

Waiting for Bishop to return from his dangerous sleuthing did not get any easier that day.

Aeyrin wasn't exactly expecting it to, but she hoped she would be able to distract herself a bit. She went over their equipment, cleaned their armors, washed some clothes, but it still only took her a few hours and Bishop was still not back. She knew that it might take the whole afternoon, but it was still hard to think about spending the rest of it wallowing in the concerns.

She decided to go out instead and buy some supplies. There was never a bad time for that. She had no idea how long they were going to stay in Leyawiin, but it was quite possible that they might have to move once more and this way they could do that right in the morning.

Even the beautiful colorful city and the shopping couldn't distract her from the worries, but she tried her best to concentrate on the sights and sounds around her rather than the thoughts racing through her mind.

Until finally, in a large general store, she overheard something that caught her attention and brought her back from her ruminations.

"I just can't believe Count Hassildor would allow this," the woman that Aeyrin had overheard whispering said. She wasn't really whispering that much, she just made a show of it, but she could be heard even across the shelves that separated Aeyrin from the happenings. "So many people killed in his city in one night. It's unbelievable. Do you know who did it?"

There were some killings in Skingrad? That was interesting. And disturbing, given how many guards were out in the streets. Even when Aeyrin thought nobody was around, she was clearly seen by one of Count Hassildor's men, leading to that… strange deal they made for her blood.

"My friend says that they found puncture wounds on all their necks," a man whispered in response to the woman.

Puncture wounds?

"You mean… vampires?" The woman gasped. "In the city? How could something like that go unnoticed with such an… onslaught? Skingrad was always one of the safest cities. The Count prides himself on protecting his citizens."

"You're too obsessed with the Count. Haven't you heard the rumors about him? Why wouldn't he let his friends feast through the nights?" The man scoffed.

"Have you seen him? He's a very charming man. The rumors are nothing but some idiots spreading falsehoods. As always. As if he would cohort with vampires. Or be one himself! Have you heard that one? Ridiculous," the woman promptly retorted.

It was natural for the Count to have rumors surrounding him regarding vampirism, given his unusual interests. The woman was right, it was probably nothing but…

"But you haven't heard the weirdest part. My friend said that the blood on the victims was strange. A different color," the man continued with palpable interest.

What?

"What does that even mean?" The woman scoffed. "Who even has strangely colored blood?"

"I don't know. All I know is that the Count ordered his men not to pursue the investigation further. I don't know about you, but I find it fishy," the man noted.

Wait… what were they saying? There were people murdered by vampires who had differently colored blood? Like… werewolf blood?

Was the Count's experiment really that innocent? He said he wanted Aeyrin's blood to find out why vampires shied away from it. Oh Gods, he didn't find some way to prevent that, did he?

Was that a bad thing?

Aeyrin was suddenly very conflicted about how she felt about the assumptions she had made. Did Count Hassildor send vampires to get rid of werewolves in his city, if he found a way for them to do that? Were the werewolves hurting anyone? Or were they… like her? Trying not to hurt anyone.

It was all getting so confusing. The whole thing about werewolves – them not having any humanity left, being monsters and all that, those ideas were dissipating in her head more and more. She didn't exactly like that. She didn't like having her beliefs shaken this way. She didn't feel like herself. But how could she still think all that after everything she had been through with her own lycanthropy? And after everything Bishop had told her. After all those things he did to convince her that she was not a monster.

She felt… dirty. All that money they got for her blood, was it really so that the Count could have people murdered? What if those people were entirely innocent, turned against their will too?

This… really didn't sit well with her. She wished she had never overheard this in the first place.

Aeyrin quickly grabbed the things she was there for and moved to the counter to pay. Now it felt strange, paying with the money she got for the lives of those people. Ugh, she hated how obsessive she suddenly got over this. But maybe it was a little better than worrying about Bishop.

She had to remind herself that she wasn't the one to get those people killed. She didn't know what the blood was for, the Count lied to her.

Then again, maybe she shouldn't just… give her blood to people she didn't know.

It was probably for the best that she returned back to the inn already. Bishop might be back soon and she was eager to avoid any other rumors she might overhear.

Funny, only a while ago she was hoping for something to distract her.

…

Much to her dismay, Bishop was still not back when she returned to the inn.

So with a sigh, she only put away their supplies and took off her clothes again. The bed was going to have to do as her comfort for now.

She promptly snuggled into the blankets and tried to think about anything but Bishop being gone for so long and possibly in danger, as well as those rumors from Skingrad.

It felt like a long time, but Bishop did return in only a little over an hour.

"Hey, princess," he smiled a bit as he shut the door behind him. "Still naked? Perfect," his soft smile turned into a grin soon enough. He didn't waste any time before discarding his own clothes in order to join her under the covers.

"Not still. Again. I went out, shopping for supplies," Aeyrin clarified as she shuffled a bit to make room for him under the blanket. He was undressed practically in record time, but any proper 'distractions' had to wait for now. "So… what happened? Did you find something out?"

"I… did," Bishop let out a sigh as he finally made his way to the bed and snuggled close to her. "Found the clan, actually."

"Wait, you did?" Her eyes went wide. After all this time, she didn't even expect this. Not really. Not after that long chase all over the Province.

"Yeah, I saw Liesl and Galric out on the streets before I even got to the tavern. Good thing too, apparently Ost and Duful spend a lot of time in that place. Anyway… they took me to their current hideout. Kari's back too," he explained.

"So… what does that mean? And… how did they react?" Aeyrin questioned him promptly. After all, she had seen Kari's reactions to Bishop. Despite her asking him for help, she was so hostile. Was everyone in the clan like that?

"Well Rina was pissed to see me," Bishop scoffed. "Not that I care. And those kids were there too… they were… confused. But Liesl was alright, I guess. Still… from what they said, shit's really bad. Kari wasn't lying."

"So your brothers abuse them?"

"Yeah, looks that way. They're all caught in the same shit they were with Torban. And their options to get rid of those two are… limited. That's why Kari wanted me here. Though she didn't even tell anyone I was coming," he snorted.

"And… what now? What are you going to do? You said you wanted to know what's going on. Now what? Are you going to help them?" Aeyrin asked uncertainly. She wasn't sure how she felt about any of this. Men like Torban, and apparently his two sons as well, were better off dead. But this would make Bishop hurl himself into a very dangerous situation, wouldn't it? He didn't know his brothers well. He had no idea what to expect from them. And neither did she. Their last tangle with a vicious criminal was almost their downfall.

"I… think so, yeah. I… I really don't know why, princess, I just… I feel shitty thinking about leaving. Even shittier than I feel about staying and helping people that will just spit at me again if I do," he let out a long frustrated sigh. He was tired of these conflicted feelings in his head. But Liesl kind of helped make up his mind. The things she said… he couldn't help but feel a little touched. And much more guilty for not dragging her away from this shit when he and Jules were plotting their escape.

"It's… it's a good thing. If your brothers are really tormenting people like that, their family and strangers too, with their… business… it is a good thing," she nodded slowly, trying to reassure him a bit as she planted a soft kiss on his lips. "But… what's the plan, exactly? Are we going to wait for them to go to that hideout or something?"

"No. That's… risky. They could have the area watched when they visit. We have no idea what they're capable of and… all that shit," Bishop sighed. Besides, there was no 'we'. Not now. He didn't want to let anyone know that there were any bargaining chips whatsoever and he was not willing to risk her in the face of his family's insanity. "There's not much of a plan yet, but… I'm working on it. The bottom line is… I'm probably gonna have to learn more about them and their contacts here, to know what to expect. I need to get them to get their guard down at least a little. They expect betrayal from their family constantly."

"So… you're gonna make friends with them? And then you're gonna kill them?" Aeyrin cringed a bit at the plan. This sounded strange. It was both worrisome and quite off-putting.

"There's no such thing as 'friends' in their world, so don't have any illusions about that. I gotta convince them they shouldn't just kill me outright and I need to convince them that I'm not here to kill them. It's… gonna be weird," he grumbled. He didn't really want to spend any time with anyone even remotely similar to Torban, but what else was there to do? He wanted to help those hopeless fuckers trapped in this life. Especially Liesl.

"How?" Aeyrin prodded.

"I'm still figuring that stuff out," he continued. He had ideas, just nothing he settled on yet. But there was one thing more important that needed to be mentioned. "I just… need to ask you once more, please don't try to help or interfere. If they find out how much I care about you, all they'll have is blackmail material. And I really don't want you hurt in all this shit."

She understood that. She understood the worries, the trepidations. She would have wanted the same thing in his place. But… the prospect of waiting for him here, not knowing what was happening, was really not tempting. But what else was she supposed to do?

"I… I get it, I just… promise me something, please," she snuggled into him firmly, trying to chase away the concerned thoughts again. "If things get bad, you get in over your head, please just tell me. We can always figure something out together."

"I promise, sweetness," he planted a soft kiss on the top of her head. That he could do. He knew all too well how bad it was letting her go on some insane mission, waiting for her without knowing what was going on. The least he could do was keep her in the loop.

"You haven't seen them since you killed Torban, right?" Aeyrin continued to ask. "You said they were following him in everything, but also wanted to take his place. How do you think they'll react to you being back here?"

"Suspicious, definitely," Bishop smirked. "Anyone would be concerned after seeing someone eleven years later out of the blue. But if you're asking whether they'll want vengeance or show some gratitude, I'm gonna take a wild guess here and say neither. I don't think they'll care about Torban's death. Not anymore, if they ever did. And they sure as fuck don't even know the word 'gratitude'. All they'll care about are their own lives and their money."

"Hmm… just be careful around them, in either case," she nodded. This all sounded quite intimidating. She didn't have much point of reference, but she kept imagining bandit clans like the ones Thorn had led. And that… wasn't exactly comforting.

"Don't worry. I for one am not letting my guard down around those assholes," he scoffed. He knew what kind of sick shit they might be capable of. He just needed to handle them carefully.

If everything went well, he could find his opening fairly soon and finish this once and for all.

…

Bishop was actually nervous. And worried.

It was a new day and he was ready for what awaited. He spent the first part of it with Aeyrin, attempting not to think too much about what needed to be done, but in the afternoon, he headed out to find Liesl and Galric on the streets again and question them about the brothers' whereabouts. He settled on what to say. He just needed to catch them somewhere public first.

It was hard to leave Aeyrin worried and anxious, but the last people he wanted to know he had someone important to him were Ost and Duful. If they were really like Torban, he knew what they would do with the information. It was even more worrying that he would have to be more careful about showing himself around town with her too from now on – he could never be sure if those two would have him watched somehow.

That's why this needed to be done as quickly as possible.

Fortunately, Liesl told him that the brothers were already in the tavern. That was his destination now.

He really didn't look forward to this part, but it had to be done. He had to play his part and just hope he was convincing enough and that those two assholes really weren't out for revenge.

He entered the tavern, leaving Liesl and Galric to their work. Maybe it was for the best that he did most of the planning and improvising on his own. Kari was capable of a vicious and subtle scheme, as her sending of the bounties demonstrated, but she rarely thought things through. After all, her plan was more likely to get Bishop killed than anything else. And Bishop would rather take things into his own hands than rely on her planning for this one.

The tavern was quite lively. It was a small cramped space and it smelled of mildew. There were several small tables there and all of them were occupied, as well as the stools by the bar. Some people even stood around, leaning on the walls and drinking like that.

Fortunately, due to the small space, it was easy to locate who he needed.

He hadn't seen his brothers for over a decade, but he recognized them right away. Ost was easy to spot because of those ridiculously bulging muscles he loved showing off so much. His freckled arms were uncovered, along with most of his chest, as he was only dressed in an open leather vest. He wore countless belts and straps around his waist and shoulder with several pouches, filled with Gods-knew-what, along with several sheathes for small throwing knives. The sides of his head were shaved and the rest of his dark ginger hair that remained in the middle was tied in a short ponytail. The amber eyes that all of Torban's children had were unmistakable, as was the multitude of scars on his face and body, and the menacing war paint he apparently drew over his freckled nose and by the side of his eyes.

Duful looked a little worse for the wear than Bishop had remembered him. He could see on his dark Redguard skin that half of his face was scarred from what seemed like severe burns and his eye on that side was disturbingly white – he was clearly blind on it. He looked almost as disturbingly jacked as Ost and he also made a show of not hiding it. Under his long dark brown dreadlocks, the leather coat looked uncomfortably tight on his muscled back and arms. He was only two years older than Galric, but he looked much older than that. Maybe because Galric was so scrawny, as compared to Duful.

They seemed absorbed in their own drinks and conversation and they haven't noticed Bishop yet. Fortunately they were alone right now. It was a good opportunity.

Bishop marched towards their table. The two of them didn't even notice him until he sat down on an empty chair there, with how crowded the tavern was.

"Hey there, dickwads, I've been looking all over for you two," he smirked as he sat down. The brothers both looked at him with angry faces as the first reaction – someone was disturbing their drinking and they clearly didn't appreciate that.

But when they saw his face, realized who he was, whether from memory of resemblance to Torban, their jaws dropped almost simultaneously. It was definitely the kind of reaction he had expected from everyone. The other siblings didn't seem nearly as shocked. Liesl did only a little. And certainly none of them were struck with sudden silence.

It was almost satisfying.

"Fucking Void," Ost's words finally interrupted the silence of their small circle. Somehow it seemed to be the most striking sound in the crowded room when Ost spoke.

"You?!" Duful managed to get a word out after a while as well.

Bishop noticed their second reaction promptly. Both of their hands reached for any weapon they could find. It was somewhat predictable. Though Bishop knew that they wouldn't strike. Not here, not now. While the clan killed many people in their days, they never did so in public. Ambushing strangers on the road, waiting for someone to leave a city to strike, sure. But not like this. The small crimes they got arrested for occasionally, those were fine. Usually that ended up with some beating and interrogation or a few days of imprisonment. But a murder in public would ensure the attention of the Legion. And that would mean that leaving the vicinity of any particular city would not be enough for them to slip beneath notice.

Bishop remained calm, not even flinching when he felt a small blade prod his knee under the table from where Ost was sitting. Duful was much less subtle. He upturned his wrist and let a hidden blade spring forth from his bracer. What the fuck was the point of a hidden blade if he brandished it like this for everyone to see?

"Relax," Bishop scoffed. "I'm not here to kill you."

"You tricked Torban and now you just show up here after a fucking decade fucking Gods-know-why. What the fuck are we supposed to think?" Ost snarled at him, pushing the blade a bit more against Bishop's knee, but without actually pricking him properly. "Don't you fucking try anything stupid."

"I don't do stupid shit. And stop trying to look fucking menacing and shit. You're not gonna kill me here. Probably not even gonna wound me, cause what's the fucking point with the temple right there, right?" Bishop smirked at them mockingly. "I told you to calm down. I'm not here to kill you," at least not here in this tavern. "I just wanted to talk."

"Talk? With us? Now? What the fuck do you want from us?" Ost snarled angrily, clearly agitated by Bishop's lack of fright. "How did you even find us?"

"Ran into Kari," Bishop admitted. Sorry, Kari, but if you wanted me to leave you out of this shit, you should have come up with an actual plan on your own. "She seemed pissed to see me. Kept spewing some shit at me about how I live a cushy life up north while they all have to live like wretches down here, just like with Torban. It was funny. And she was right. I had the fucking guts to step up and get my ass out of this bullshit and now she complains because she didn't? Fucking pathetic," he scoffed. He didn't really mean that. Well… maybe a little.

"So what?" Ost growled. "You here to do what you did to Torban to 'free' more of those whelps like you did that hairy brat?" Both the brothers let out a malicious laugh at that, making it clear that they had no intention of letting anyone do that.

Actually, yeah.

"Nah," Bishop waved his hand dismissively. "The fuck do I care about them? I did that to get myself and Jules free. I don't give a shit about the others. And I am free now, so why the fuck would I need to do that again?"

"Where is that fucker? If he's hiding somewhere, trying to strike like when you did that shit to Torban..." Ost growled threateningly.

"Jules is dead. He was sick, not that you'd care," Bishop explained. "And again, why the fuck would I do that? Besides… you sound like you don't approve. Fucking weird, since I seem to recall you two just standing there, staring slack-jawed, instead of alerting Torban to that 'trick'." They wanted him dead too. Everyone did.

"What the fuck do you want from us?" Duful scoffed. "You said you've been looking for us, so spill it already."

"Well… recently I've… fallen on some hard times. And… I remembered what Kari said," Bishop smirked.

"The fuck does that mean?" Ost scoffed.

"The fuck do you think? It was clear you two have the operation still going and now I want in on the money you get from those idiots," Bishop explained. "After all, without me killing Torban in the first place, you would never even have this opportunity at all. The money you get from those fuckers is mine as much as yours. You owe me."

"Are you fucking shitting me?!" Ost raised his voice considerably.

"We don't owe you shit," Duful growled. "Don't pretend like you killed him for anyone but yourself."

"Me and Jules, and I'm not claiming that," Bishop scoffed. "Why would I do that for anyone else? But you still fucking benefited. And that's thanks to me."

"You got a lot of fucking nerve coming here after all this time and demanding money," Ost snarled. "You're not getting shit from us."

"Well, it's not like I expected you to agree," Bishop chuckled. They'd have to be stupid to do that right away. "I wanna keep this… cooperative, for now. So I didn't come empty handed."

"The fuck does that mean?" Duful scowled. He still had his wrist blade pointed at Bishop and Ost kept poking his knee with his knife, but neither of them did anything more. Of course they didn't. Fights in taverns may have been common, but once people pulled out knives and other weapons, there was a risk of guards getting involved. And the innkeepers usually wanted to prevent that.

"It means that I have an opportunity for you too. One that can make us all a lot of money, if you let me in on the shit you have going on here," Bishop explained.

"You have something that would make you a lot of drakes, why not take this 'opportunity' for yourself instead of coming here and asking for a share?" Ost scowled at him. It was a fair question.

"It's a… thing that's worth a lot. But it's not exactly easy to get hands on. I need more people for that. And I don't really know anyone here anymore. We do this mutually profitable shit, and we're good." That was bullshit. If this theoretical scenario was actually true, he knew that once the brothers learned the details of his 'opportunity', he would be killed right away.

"What 'thing'?" Ost prodded.

"You think I'm a fucking moron? I'm not telling you yet," Bishop scoffed in response.

"How do we even know you have anything at all?" Ost growled promptly.

"You don't. Just refuse if you wanna, I don't give a fuck, I'll find someone else. It will just take me more time," he shrugged.

"How much money are we talking?" Duful scowled in suspicion.

"At least three grand from what I've heard," Bishop smirked. It was clear that he garnered some interest. He was glad that he still managed to do that with their kind. He was hoping that this was going to go the way he planned.

"That's some fucking tall talk," Ost shook his head. "Are you gonna share this 'opportunity' with us if we let you in for the profits? For how fucking long do you imagine this working?"

"I might get more opportunities down the line," Bishop smirked. "We can talk about those later. But, for now, that thing is getting transported in a month. Until then, you cut me in on your shit. How does that sound?"

Ost and Duful shared a brief interested look. Bishop knew what that look meant – they were willing to sacrifice some money for a month, likely not an even share, they would definitely short-change him subtly. But after his opportunity was taken care of, they were intent on getting rid of him.

He was confident that this shit would not take that long. They would both be dead before that.

"We'll see," Ost nodded. "We can agree for now, see how useful you can be if we need something. You know the drill, everyone has to pull their own for the money. Except you might actually get to keep some, if we're… satisfied for now, unlike the other fuckers. But we'll be watching you."

"Deal," Bishop nodded. He was willing to pretend to work with them for a while. And the watching part, that was expected. That was what he needed, actually. The closer they 'cooperated', the more he would learn.

"Drink to seal the deal," Duful gestured to the bartender and within moments, a tankard of some swill was brought in front of Bishop. At least Duful didn't offer something from his own flask or some such. After what Bishop had heard about him from Gandrehel, he had to be wary about any drinks around the Redguard.

At least the brothers finally put their weapons away.

The three of them clanked the tankards against each other before they all took a sip.

"Fuck. Never thought I'd see you again," Ost shook his head incredulously. "Seriously, the balls on you. What did you think? It didn't fucking occur to you that we might be pissed about Torban?"

"After what Kari said? No," Bishop scoffed. "You clearly ended up better off. You two at least. Kari is obviously pissed. And I assume the others are too."

"That's right, you better stay away from them," Duful nodded with a scowl. Bishop knew why he was concerned. Because of the very thing Bishop was doing – what if he got to talk to the siblings too much and got swayed to betray Ost and Duful?

"Kari needs to have her fucking mouth fixed for complaining," Ost growled.

Sorry, Kari. That's what you get for those fucking bounties though.

"Whatever," Bishop shrugged. "I just needed some money coming in, more than one time shit, and the north got too dangerous. So I thought it was worth the risk. Even if for some daft reason you wanted some vengeance or some shit."

"Torban taught us a lot," Duful scowled.

"But he was clearly weak to let himself get tricked like that," Ost added. Apparently they lost a lot of respect for Torban that day. Good. "Especially with what he said… that he would do the same shit. Why not anticipate it then? He was always fucking underestimating us."

"Clearly," Bishop nodded, suppressing a cringe at the reminder of Torban's last words. They still bothered him a little. More so now when he was back in this shit.

"How'd you find us here?" Duful frowned again.

"It was a fucking long chase, I'll tell you that. Especially with the lack of money," Bishop grumbled. He really didn't have a lack of money, but there was no way in Oblivion he would let them know that.

"Not from Kari then?" The Redguard narrowed his eyes, the one amber hale one focusing on Bishop intently.

"Nah, she wasn't that stupid," he shook his head. He had done enough to throw her to the wolves for one day. He had to do that to someone, unfortunately, and Kari was the only believable scapegoat. And it was true anyway. But he didn't have to make it unnecessarily worse for her. "Got some info from some usual brokers and shit. Sometimes some innkeepers got talkative too, after I… made it clear they really should." Huh, it just occurred to him that he didn't really threaten anyone to get the clan's location. That was a first. Though Aeyrin kind of did threaten Gandrehel for him.

"Hmpf, well don't expect fucking gratitude or anything for killing Torban," Ost huffed in the end, clearly disappointed with the vague information about those that betrayed their location.

"Gratitude? From you? Are you fucking kidding?" Bishop let out a laugh. "You were like his biggest bitch."

"I was waiting for my opportunity!" Ost growled defensively.

"Sure. If you say so," Bishop scoffed. "Whatever though. You're clearly better off without him and so was I. And now we can all keep reaping the benefits."

Ost and Duful shared another look, which just reaffirmed their scheming and malicious intents more.

But that was to be expected. Hopefully they had no idea about Bishop's.

It was strange being here again, in this environment full of imminent betrayal and mistrust. Bishop fucking hated it. He had lived his entire life like this, never trusting anyone, but now, when he actually had people he trusted steadily, it felt worse to come back to this.

But it had to be done.

Ost and Duful merely shared a brief grin before they turned back to Bishop. Ost nodded his head subtly and his words were barely heard over the sounds of the tavern.

"We'll see what happens."