Chapter 45
"I've never designed clothing for a Redguard warrior, but it's a challenge I'll gladly accept. Especially since he's so handsome and important," said the elegant Altmer.
Taarie and her older sister, Endarie, own the fashion store Radiant Rainment. Endarie ran the internal shop functions while Taarie was external shopping, delivering, fetching, and sales traveling. The sisters were born in the Altmer section of the Imperial City. A family of silk weavers. Taarie, the more outgoing and restless of the two, often skipped lessons to run outside the Altmer section. That's how she met his mother and her playmate, Edmund. Those two little hooligans were out playing "hunt the spy" and ignored the older Altmer girl watching them as they tried to find the ideal perch in a tree outside a garden shop from which to spy.
"Older" was a relative term to the differences between Men and Mer. In terms of years, Taarie was older — 14 to their 8. Mentally and emotionally, she was their equal. The two looked like they were having fun, and she wanted in on it. With no older cousins around to nag about proper etiquette and the necessity of first determining another's social status, she boldly confronted them, challenging them, "Catch me if you can. If you do, I'll let you have part of the almond cherry cake my aunt gave me," and led them a merry chase through the business district.
The almond cherry cake, rich with egg and cream, he was now feeling slightly sick after eagerly devouring six generous slices — three-quarters of the cake. The ladies glanced at him with indulgent smiles, and he felt embarrassed at his lack of control. Taarie poured him a small cup of Hammerfell-style kafe, which he carefully sipped. It was hot, thick, and warred with the sugars and fats in his stomach, gradually conquering and easing his discomfort.
He tried to follow their discussion of what clothes to make for him for the ball being held in the Emperor's honor, but tracking the latest fashion trends didn't interest him. One of many balls, but he was only attending one because he was going to leave for Falkreath to hunt down the Skyrim sect of the Dark Brotherhood for the Emperor. "No red, black, and gold," he insisted. "I am not the black dragon Alduin breathing fire nor a dremora."
"He can carry the blue and silver," suggested Taarie. "I have a lovely silk peacock blue with silver thread embroidery perfect for a vest…"
And then they fussed over his hair and beard. He privately admitted he'd been lax in personal grooming lately, looking ragged and unkempt. His mother trimmed and shaped both to a more civilized length, then she and Taarie spent a good part of an hour combing through his hair and beard with a scented oil and sandalwood combs until everything felt soft and smooth and shined like the mane of a pampered show horse.
"Looking good, Tariq," said Rodina with a big grin. "Almost as handsome as Cairo."
Tariq glared at her but chin-pointed her to side tables loaded with drinks and snacks. She loaded a small plate with fruit and took a chair to his right.
"As you ordered, Idgrod and Lydia left for Falkreath and are heading to Thane Ingvar's place. Hopefully, he will be available to help them. He sounds like a good man. Valdimar's back to watching over Cairo and says it's quite boring. Nobody's tried to steal him. And Serana hasn't returned yet. I've tried asking around the palace, but nobody recalls seeing anyone of her description."
"There are few who can harm a vampire lord like her."
"Maybe. But that's the Pelagius Wing she disappeared into. I even questioned that Bosmer beggar I saw her briefly talking to. He tells me she accepted the bones he claims belonged to Mad Emperor Pelagius and agreed to try to find and talk his master to end his vacation and come home."
"He sounds like a madman."
"He is," Rodina agreed, nodding. "Quite mad. And seeing that the closed-off wing is dedicated to a mad emperor, I wouldn't be surprised if this Bosmer's master was Sheogorath."
"Have you tried talking to that court vampire?" asked Tariq gruffly. He'd tried talking to Jarl Elisif about Sybille Stentor, court mage and vampire, another councilor Elisif inherited from her husband. But she had pushed his concern aside, saying that Stentor had never given anyone a reason to question her loyalty.
"Court… Oh, you mean Stentor. I've spoken with her, but not talked. As soon as I said 'Pelagius,' she cut me off and repeated what everyone else said, 'The wing is locked for a reason. No one is allowed inside.' And since we're keeping it secret that Serana is a vampire lord, there wasn't anything else I could say to her. Then I talked to Falk, and he agreed to give me the key to Pelagius Wing if I did him a favor and investigated a complaint made by a farmer from Dragon Bridge."
"What kind of complaint?"
"Strange noises and lights coming out of a cave near the Shrine of Meridia and sighting of wandering undead. Probably necromancers. Really stupid ones if they've set up near the shrine of the Daedric Prince of Life and Unlimited Energies."
"Daedric?"
"She's not a Prince you want to offend, my son," said his mother, re-entering the room with Taarie. Both of them carried more cloth bolts. "In her own way, she's as egotistical as Azura and ruthless as Molag Bal. Being the former patron god of the Ayleids should tell you that. She's also not a true Daedra but a renegade Magna Ge. While she's one of the weaker Princes, as she gains power, she becomes more dangerous." She set down her cloth bolts and gestured for Tariq to stand up. She and Taarie began laying cloth against him to find the color combination that pleased them.
"As for her hatred of the undead, dead things can't be taken over by her. Dead things can't actively celebrate her glory and devote their life energies to her. No Daedra Prince glories in the undead, not even Molag Bal. I daresay he has no actual use for them. He may accept their worship, but an undead world, ultimately, does nothing for him.
"Hm. Although, I wonder how an Ayleid goddess came to have a temple in Skyrim? Was it during the Planemeld? I suppose there are books on old mythology or theology to explain that."
She glanced over at Rodina. "Is this cave they want you to inspect naturally occurring or something like a mine entrance? Is there any local history on it?"
"I don't know. But you're right — I should check," said Rodina.
"Wolf Cave was quite notorious in the Third Era," said Dean Viarmo of the Bard's College from the outer storefront room. Rodina jumped up and opened the door. Dean Viarmo and Endarie were at the counter. Endarie was totaling up Viarmo's purchase. Tariq frowned at the eavesdropping until Viarmo cocked his head in a way that reminded Tariq that a mer's pointed ears weren't just for show.
"Greetings, dean," said Rodina. "Will you tell me quickly about that cave? I promised Falk Firebeard I'd explore it." Viarmo frowned.
"Sending a bard to investigate when he should be sending soldiers? I would advise you to turn down that job. Wolf Cave was so named because it was used by followers of the Wolf Queen for necromancy rituals. I looked inside that cave a score of years ago to investigate an old story of a hidden fortress in that area where Queen Potema's worshipers gathered to conduct unholy rituals. If that cave is the entrance to her fortress, it had since been filled in after the collapse of her reign because all I found was a deep cave that terminated in a wall of granite blocks and a heavy oak door. The door was ajar, and I slid through. But all I found was an empty room with a dirt floor suspiciously depressed, like a deep stairway that had been filled. Whether it was by her enemies or the remnants of her followers to hide and preserve the site is unknown. If there are necromancers who have excavated her temple, it's too dangerous to go there alone, Rodina. Anything of Potema's reign should remain buried."
"Normally, I'd agree, headmaster," Rodina said and sighed. "But you've been reading my works, haven't you? With the dragons returning, a lot of dead things have also been stirring."
"Yes, I've been reading your works. It will be one hell of an edda of the Dragonborn." Viarmo picked up his purchase. As he turned to leave, he said, "I'm going back to the college. I'll pull some books for you to study about Potema."
He glanced at Tariq's mother and smiled invitingly at her. "I would also be happy to show you what we have about the Planemeld. There are some stories of Meridia's actions through the Soulless Champion."
"What an interesting idea," she responded, smiling back and earning a scowl from her son. "I would also find the legends of the Dragonborn legends of great interest. You understand why."
"Of course, dear lady. If—"
Tariq cleared his throat loudly.
"How urgent is this task?" asked Tariq after the elf had left.
"I would bet Falk has already forgotten about it," admitted Rodina. "I just happened to be in the court audience because there was nothing better to do after searching for Serana. I listened to the Dragon Bridge farmer's complaint. As soon as the man left, all the Jarl's advisors dismissed the complaint as an ignorant peasant's superstition. However, Jarl Elisif's first impulse was to send a legion to scour the area, yet her advisors talked her down to a mere increase in patrols.
"I talked to Minister Falk afterward, and he admitted that he likely was dropping the matter and not even assign those extra patrols. I needled him about making a liar of the Jarl, something that should be avoided if he wanted the people to respect the Jarl's power and not make appeals directly to the Legion for law enforcement and public safety. Well, I could see I was testing his patience. I may be the Dragonborn's companion, but I was, after all, just a bard. And bards are known to have strange ideals. So I volunteered to inspect the place and report if the farmer's concerns were valid."
Tariq frowned as he sifted through his memory for knowledge of this "Potema." Nothing. This was the first time he'd heard of this foreign queen. "Mother, do you know anything about this Potema?"
"Only from the Imperial history lessons, my son. She was one of the major political factors in the War of Red Diamond. For Skyrim, I suspect it was more a war between blood kin. All I know is that she was the High Queen of Skyrim and sister of Emperor Antiochus. When he mysteriously died, she claimed his daughter, Kintyra, was a bastard and her son the rightful emperor. She had strong support having courted many factions in High Rock, Morrowind, and Skyrim. She even managed to entice King Orgnum of Pandonea to bed as a counter to Summerset should they actually move to side with Kintyra. A mistake on her part. Summerset couldn't care less. However, it enraged the Psijics of Artaeum into actively siding with the Empire. An astonishing accomplishment, that. Her son, Uriel, the would-be emperor, was captured in the Battle of Ichidag. That much, at least, should have been part of your history lessons, Tariq."
"Yes, Mother," Tariq agreed morosely. "The Imperial Army from Gilane under the command of, um… "
"Cephorus Septim, the next Emperor after the murder of Kintyra at the hands of traitors allied with Potema." She lightly tapped his cheek with her fan and sighed. "All you have in your head is swords, my son. I would think the history of great battles in Hammerfell would have at least managed a toehold.
"To continue. Soon after the death of her son, the rebels were exhausted, and their armies were down. Potema then showed herself as one of the greatest necromancers and resurrected them to continue her war for another ten years until she was finally brought down. If that elf… Who was he again, Rodina?"
"Viarmo, the dean of the Bard's College for the past century."
"If Dean Viarmo is correct about that cave being the secret entrance to Potema's temple of necromancy, having it near Meridia's temple might make some sense if she found a way to steal power from the Prince of 'Unlimited Energies.' Although, how she managed it is beyond my ability to comprehend."
She draped several strips of silver cloth around her son's neck. "A neck cloth of this shade of silver would be nice, Taarie."
To Rodina, she said, "You should research the old Wolf Cave while Tariq is off doing whatever the Emperor hired him to do. Once he gets back, he'll help you investigate that cave."
… … …
The sanctuary of Falkreath was the last known enclave of the Dark Brotherhood under the command of its master Astrid, who — according to known lore about the Brotherhood — should be something called "The Listener," a sort of priest or representative of a being called the "Night Mother." Tariq's casual reading about the Brotherhood didn't give him any clear understanding. There wasn't any further information because anyone researching the subject would die unexpectedly, a deterrent to definitive investigations.
Safe in their sanctuary, the assassins were off guard and good at ignoring noises that didn't immediately concern them, making it easy for sneak kills. The only real challenges Tariq had were the mage assassin, Master Assassin Astrid, and the werewolf.
The master assassin kept meticulous records. Most of the missing assassins were minor killers. The only ones to be concerned about were the Redguard weapons master, a vampire, and the Cheydinhal survivor whom the Emperor had mentioned. Tariq found the casket the renegade had transported. Inside was, indeed, a withered mummy of a female. So, the legendary Night Mother. As he stared at her, he thought he heard a woman's dry voice whispering, urging him to…
YOL TOOR! He had to repeat himself three more times before the stubborn she-devil's corpse finally collapsed to ashes.
"This mortal husk may be gone, but not my spirit," laughed the Night Mother. "Be ever watchful from now on for my beloved children."
Idgrod and Ingvar found the contract on the Emperor's life made between Astrid and Amaund Motierre. With the contract was his symbol of office, an Elder Councilor's necklace, which was his payment for the service. Most records would be given to the Emperor and the Penitus Oculatus. The rest Ingvar had arranged to be given to Jarl Balgruuf in repayment for the Whiterun soldiers, disguised as hunters, patrolling the surrounding area to keep the locals clear. Jarl Siddgeir hadn't been above employing the Dark Brotherhood against troublesome nobles. Many had made second homes in Whiterun Hold. Nobles getting murdered in his Hold, even if they were Falkreath nobles, had displeased Balgruuf greatly.
Lydia, reading over Invar's shoulder, grunted, "Huh. Black-Briar is one of their major customers. No surprise there. Everyone knows both the Thieves Guild and Dark Brotherhood are in her pocket. Jarl Layla wouldn't care to believe it — she prefers Maven handle all the troublesome problems in her Hold. Believing these records would mean reassuming responsibilities she's given over to Maven. At least we knocked out one of her fangs today."
"Hunting with you is always interesting," said Aela, finger-combing her hair after a quick dip in the pool in the alchemy room. Tariq couldn't help examining her flesh. Fighting with the Brotherhood werewolf had left her with many deep gashes. Anything less than a werewolf, vampire, or daedroth would have bled out from those wounds. But even as he watched, the ragged, bleeding lips of her wounds were closing to leave her skin smooth and fair as ever.
Aela had been in Falkreath for her yearly patrol of her family's lands. Ingvar had taken the opportunity to invite her to this party. That the Dark Brotherhood sanctuary was in Falkreath was no surprise to her. As a werewolf, she knew that this area had Oblivion's scent to it, just as the strange tomb Tariq had seen near the Akaviri bathhouse ruins had Oblivion's mark on it. Aela wasn't sure which prince that tomb belonged to. Bets in the Companions favored either Nocturnal or Mephala.
"You knew that werewolf?"
"Arnbjorn? Yes. He was once one of ours. But once he took the blood, he liked killing a little too well. Too many unnecessary and brutal deaths. He was bringing the Silver Hands down on us." She sat beside him and picked up a mug to fill it from the small cask he'd been drinking from. "Ingvar hadn't told me, but what brought you hunting the Dark Brotherhood? Someone set a contract on you, so you decided it would be a challenge to kill the dogs before going after their master?"
"No. The contract was on them. I accepted it in exchange for gold and an interesting sword."
"Must be quite a sword."
"It can knock a dragon out of the air, or so I am told."
"Ah, that makes sense. That would be quite a sword. And did fencing against assassins teach anything to you?"
"Sadly, no. Astrid was good but relied too much on her blade's enchantment. Athis's skills are superior; I would not have fared as well without his tutelage. As for the rest, there was nothing for me to do. Idgrod is a fair assassin herself with her bow. She took all my poisons to tip her arrows and slew most of them, leaving very little for the others."
"How disappointing. All armed and ready to fight bears and stuck with rabbits," drawled Aela.
"Quite. The only ones I was allowed to deal with was their leader and that sorcerer."
"Of course," snorted Aela. "You're the only one here with the enchanted armor to take the sorcerer and the master assassin. So, is your contract fulfilled even though there are a few missing?"
"The task was to clean out this den, not the absolute eradication of the Brotherhood. The leaders have been beheaded, the proof of an Elder Councilor's treason has been secured, and the Night Mother's corpse has been burned. There will, of course, be other assassination organizations, but the Dark Brotherhood has ended."
"And the dragon wall here, was information of its location another payment? Was the new word worth it?"
"Yes. A dark word of a death knell. Fitting for this place."
"Then you need another dragon soul. I saw one flying around Bleakfalls."
"Yes, we saw it. Ingvar wants me to get rid of it because it bothers his workers."
She sat beside him. He glanced at her, then slipped an arm around her waist. She leaned against him. They said nothing. A moment of warmth until Lydia tapped on the doorframe. She had a keg of oil under one arm.
"Beg pardon, thane, but we've collected all the records, treasures, and weapons. Is there anything in here you want to take before we burn this place out?"
"No. I've collected all I want from this room."
The kegs of oil were distributed throughout the sanctuary. Tariq did one last sweep of the caves, using his life detection shout to ensure no one was lagging behind, and the place was burned.
… … …
Tariq sent Idgrod and Valdimar to deliver the Dark Brotherhood records to the Emperor's secretary aboard the Katariah. They returned with the Emperor's invitation to a small dinner party. He went to Radiant Rainment to pick up the fancy dress again and found out his mother was also invited. She also knew that General Tullius and Jarl Elisif would be attending.
His mother had been busy while he was gone. The Emperor had asked her to encourage talks between General Tullius and Jarl Elisif. After sending an order to Tullius to make time for the Jarl, he'd tasked Tariq's mother to stand in for him as intermediary and counselor.
"I did not know you had this much influence with the Emperor, Mother," Tariq said to her as they waited in the private home area of Radiant Rainment for their Imperial escort to the Emperor's ship.
"I was merely following up on the happy incident you fostered when you brought Elisif to his ship. She was finally able to express her frustrations and concerns to the Emperor. Or, rather, Marius, the Emperor's cousin and body double. And Marius reported everything to the Emperor. Cornelius — his name before he was chosen to inherit the throne and obligated to take the Mede name — asked my impression of Skyrim and its high court. I told him what I thought. I know Titus Mede the First did not consider the High King of Skyrim as family, and he expected Cornelius to feel the same. I said I expected that every Jarl in Skyrim would be aware there are no longer any blood ties to the Ruby Throne. But, one cannot so easily dismiss eras of shared history. Also, the Empire owes Skyrim for its unwavering support during the Great War."
"And us?" Tariq asked acidly.
She sighed and gave him a sad look. "I know you never believed me, son, but Cornelius has more feelings for Hammerfell than Skyrim. He lived his youth in the borderlands with Hammerfell. His side of the Mede family has blood ties among the Forebears. The Dominion gave him the hard choice of the Empire or Hammerfell. Of Skyrim, they merely challenged the status of Talos's godhood then, not its lands. It was more important to the Dominion to challenge the Empire for Hammerfell. You know why. It's the closest to Summerset and poses the greatest naval challenge. Skyrim was too far and uncivilized. However, it, too, cannot be left alone. Cyrodiil was not in a position to go 'all-or-nothing.' The Dominion wasn't either, but they were willing to die and take the rest of the world with them. Someone had to step down. Cornelius had to bet that future generations would win. But first, they had to live to grow.
"As for Hammerfell, he had to trust in its strength to hold against a weakened Dominion. The Crowns and Forbears were always too wild and conflicted for the Empire to tame despite best efforts. Cities were easy to conquer. But when they fled into the desert, the armies of both Cyrodiil and Summerset would drown in the sands. Only Khajiit and Dunmer were effective desert fighters. However, Morrowind was never that cooperative with the Empire — especially after Red Mountain and the Oblivion Crisis. There are Dunmer legionnaires, of course, but Cyrods don't trust the Dark Elves enough to create an all-Dunmer unit. The Dominion regards Khajiit in the same way. And the High Elves had no patience trying to herd and control cat clans.
"And the Invalids — Do you know how much funds Cornelius hands them under the table? Without them, we could never have fought off the Dominion with all the infighting of our factions. I know many in both Forebears and Crowns pat their own backs and say, 'We did not need the Empire's Legions to fight off the Dominion.' But I know, without the Invalids and Cornelius's secret funding, that boast is vain puffery. The constant loss of funds is part of the reason why Motierre and his ilk seek to murder Cornelius. They think Cornelius is a bigger thief keeping all that gold for himself.
"Oh, don't give me that look, Tariq. Cornelius is no saint. He couldn't be Emperor if he was. Titus Mede the First had no use for saints or impractical, idealistic heroes like his son, which is why Attrebus Mede was never crowned. I merely ask you to be careful about any anti-Empire rhetoric you hear in Skyrim. I don't want your anti-Empire ideas further inflamed. It's like those small-minded idiots who convinced you your father was a traitor for helping the Summerset refugees settle into their colony at Sentinel and who denigrated all the work he did to help the survivors of the Green Fire attack. I know you wouldn't have minded your father's strictness and demands if your no-good friends hadn't convinced you he was an elf-lover."
"I've heard this all before, Mother."
She punched his shoulder, just enough to make her feelings known. He knew she could've gone much harder.
"Nothing but packed sand between your ears — Just like your father!"
"It takes strong walls to hold the wind that can move the dunes," Tariq muttered, automatically quoting something father always said after a quarrel with mother.
She punched his shoulder again. "I keep telling your father I'll pour molten steel in his ears one day and sandcast some sense. I see my son needs the same. The only thing stopping me is I first need to find some sense to press mold. Unfortunately, I can't help but love my stubborn men, so I lack the model sense myself."
The Imperial escort arrived, saving him from further windstorm damage.
First were greetings, then drinks, and then the Emperor had his aide fetch a long box. In it was a sword in a leather sheath of shagreen.
"Your reward: Windshear, given to me by Ali ibn Hashim al-Malik of Taneth. He was a magnificent captain who took four Aldmeri warships with him to the bottom of the sea." The Emperor presented the sheathed sword to Tariq with his own hands.
"I've heard of Captain Ali of Taneth," said Tariq. "I've had drinks and worked with the man who married his youngest sister. Only high praise for Captain Ali's exploits on the sea passed that one's lips."
Windshear looked like any generic steel scimitar. A decent weight to it and well-balanced. He looked at the Emperor for more information.
"It knocks or staggers anything aside. Usually, this sword is planted in the prow of my ship and splits the headwind, allowing faster travel. As I told you before, I am willing to sacrifice my ship's speed advantage in return for the destruction of the Dark Brotherhood. Also, you must use a two-hand grip to block and bash with the sword to automatically paralyze the enemy. These enchantments cannot be duplicated. We've tried, hoping to equip other ships with weapons of these same effects, but failed."
"Tariq, I see that gleam in your eyes," his mother said archly. "Put your new toy away and thank his Imperial Majesty properly. Then we will have dinner. Afterward, you gentlemen will discuss the discoveries from the assassins' sanctuary while we ladies discuss household management in difficult situations."
The Emperor winked at her and smiled as Tariq bowed and formally thanked him for the sword.
A servant entered and bowed to the Emperor.
"Ah, dinner is served," announced the Emperor.
Redguard cuisine. Jarl Elisif was unused to spicy dishes and only picked at her food. Everyone else ate heartily. Tariq was impressed by the spicy hot seafood curry, which used fish from the northern waters. The goat roast was seasoned with various spices and served with tangy yogurt sauce and garlic flatbread. A refreshing tabouli salad. Dessert was baklava and chilled fruit yogurt drinks. How he'd missed those flavors!
Then, as Mother had dictated, the party separated. The Emperor's secretaries came in with papers summarizing the information collected from the Sanctuary. Tariq gave his report, and his part was done. This was a matter of high treason. Tullius also had no involvement there but was here to receive orders regarding what information to keep from the Dominion and actions the Emperor wanted to be done in Skyrim.
When the Emperor started discussing certain matters with his secretaries, Tariq and Tullius withdrew to the other side of the room to give them privacy.
"I hear you've been visiting the Palace of the Kings," said Tullius. "I expect Ulfric wants the Dragonborn by his side."
"As if it's any of your concern. But I am taking magicka instruction from the court wizard there. I am somewhat of a student of the College of Winterhold. Most of the court mages of Skyrim are graduates and have been asked by their College to provide instruction to me when I need it."
"Understood. May I ask, then, what is your impression of Ulfric Stormcloak?"
"An angry and bitter man who has told me he would sooner see the world burn in Alduin's flames than the Dominion take power."
"As expected. I'm not going to try to recruit you in the Legion," stated Tullius. "I have to cooperate with the Dominion per the Concordat. They would try to use me to control you or get you assigned to suicide missions. They've been upset lately at the number of illegal patrols and Talos-worshiper hunters that have gone missing since you arrived in Skyrim. I assume I don't have to warn you, considering your reputation in Hammerfell, to be wary of shadow blades."
"Mm," Tariq replied.
"Also, thank you for your assistance with the Mythic Dawn matter. Legate Fasendil had high praise for you."
"You've got an excellent officer in that mer," Tariq conceded. "He's wasted in Ivarstead."
"Agreed. I would have him here in Solitude, but Elenwen would most surely have him assassinated and his kinfolk tracked down and likewise murdered. The Dominion is particularly vicious with those they consider traitors to their race. And he's the best I could assign to the Ivarstead camp. He keeps a cool head in enemy territory, maintains good relations with the locals, and keeps the Nords of his unit sensible despite a living legend running in and out of camp stirring up holy monks and dragons."
Tariq's mouth twitched as he restrained a scowl. He didn't like the laughter he thought he saw in the Colovian's eyes. He'd also noticed that Tullius's gaze towards his mother throughout the evening was more than just casual interest. He didn't know if Tullius was married, but it didn't matter. She belonged to his father, and no man had the right to look at her that way.
The Emperor finished his private consultation. The women re-entered the room. The remaining evening was spent in discussions of general topics.