One of my busier nights, that was. But since time was pressing I felt that the old man could wait for the time being; the longer I wanted on Mercer, the colder the trail would get. As I went off to one side with Brynjolf and Karliah, the Nord explained in hushed tones what he wanted me to do.
"Mercer has a house here in Riften," Brynjolf explained. "I don't know anything about it, but it may be he's left some sort of clue or a sign in there. Chances are he's long gone, but I'm sure he's left some traps and nastiness on the way, but if he was in a hurry he may have been careless."
"Easily sorted either way," I said. "He's a good thief but he's just one man. "
"He's the best swordsman out of any of the thieves," Karliah said. "And he's a former Nightingale. Don't underestimate him; even I wouldn't cross swords with the man. He's been on the run for a long time."
This was sounding like the Embassy all over again, but I had managed that without too much trouble. Still, it was going to be nasty work, and it meant going against our own. Blood for blood, this one, and we all knew it.
"He's probably got some thugs in there, and he was a traps specialist so I'm sure he's rigged up something pretty nasty," Brynjolf continued. "He'd expect Karliah, but he thought he had left you for dead, lass - so he wouldn't expect you. Truth of the matter is you're one of the best thieves down here. I don't dare send anyone else; you at least have a chance."
"More than a chance if I have any say in it," I muttered, the scar on my throat itching slightly.
"There's a way in along the back - Mercer installed some weird contraption, like a drawbridge or platform or something, called it "insurance". There's a big stupid bruiser named Vald who loiters around back, under Mercer's employ. You can deal with him gently, or deal with him not so gently. I know one of our circle here had a thing with him - if you can get Vex to talk that is maybe she can give some info so you can get past him."
"I suppose I should ask first whether or not the Code still stands before I make that decision," I said smoothly, looking at Brynjolf and Karliah together. They both looked uneasy, but Brynjolf's face was set. "Mercer forfeited on that when he killed Gallus, and when he took a slice at you as far as I'm concerned. However you handle it, handle it. This is important and we're losing time."
"Don't worry," I said rather wryly as I gave my most reassuring smile. "You'd not believe half of what I've seen so far. I don't suppose you have some more of that paralysis poison, Karliah?"
"I only had enough for one shot last time," Karliah said, "but I did manage to find some more supplies while you were busy. Coat a blade with it, or an arrow, but there isn't much." She carefully handed me a tiny vial, small enough to fit into the palm of my glove.
"It will do," I replied gratefully. "If it was Mercer I wouldn't bother, but hired hands? I'm not going to slaughter them unless I have to."
"I'm going to keep watch," Karliah said, nodding to us both as she turned and walked toward the Ragged Flagon. "Shadows hide you well, Dreema."
Brynjolf turned back to me as I carefully applied some of Karliah's potion onto the tip of my boot dagger, his blue eyes glittering beneath his mop of red hair. He was silent for several moments before he spoke again in a solemn tone. "If I could come with you, I would; I'd rip the man's heart out if I could just reach it. I do not want to send you into that house but there's really no other way. We need to know where he is and what he's planning. He's probably long gone but it's possible he's still lurking in Riften. You be careful. You won't get a second chance to cheat death." His voice never raised, but I could hear the undercurrent of fury there. And I saw for a brief moment that he might have thought of me as more than just a guildmate. I merely gave him a shrug and then put my best business face on, taking a deep breath.
"Okay; go in, deal with whoever's inside, then get back here with evidence. I can do that, don't you worry. Just keep the lid on here and everyone stay frosty, I'll be back quick as quick."
I tugged my hood down over my brow and made my way up through the mausoleum, taking a deep breath of the night air and flexing my fingers. This was the sort of thing I loved, and I admit it. One can talk about redemption, but being a sneak what was I did and I did it well. May as well play one's strengths! Besides, believe it or no as you like, but the Circle has a code of ethics. Mercer had crossed that line and as the Riften guild was the only guild left in Skyrim, I couldn't have that. This was completely separate from being Dragonborn, or being the harbinger, or being a wife - this was mine.
I'll gloss over the details - there was a trapdoor and I managed to fire an arrow and bring it down with a crash. When that got the oaf's attention, I came up behind him and managed to give him a good slice across the shoulderblade before he even knew I was there. He dropped like a log, and I knew all too well he'd stay there for a while. Then it was just a matter of up and in.
Yep, Mercer was a tricky bastard. The house was big, filled to the brim with mercs, and booby-trapped from one end to the other. I used as much of that potion as I had, but once that ran out it was quick and silent blade-work. Best I could do if I couldn't sneak by, but I didn't like it. Trap doors, spiked bars, secret passageways, floorplate traps, pendulum blades and battering ramps. The man must have spent a fortune on all that, and meant I was on the right track. It also meant he had known someone would come for him eventually - he'd probably done all this to keep Karliah off his tail, but even so, it was extensive. This wasn't just paranoia - this was calculated; the thinking of a thief who knew sooner or later his luck would run out. We all feel that on some level - I have a theory that thieves are the most devout people outside of temples - but Mercer...no, this is was something more than a bit of superstition. This was a man who knew something was after him.
What else had he done to put himself into the situation of a man on the run? I still didn't know, and I knew a thing or two about running from fate.
I had hoped I'd find him down there. If I had, the story would be a lot shorter! I came to a room which looked like an office - his home base more than likely but it was empty, and there was no sign that he had left in a hurry. Maybe Mercer really thought he was in the clear and didn't realise we were on his track, and he was just going on as business as usual. I eyed a sword in a case, an Amulet of Stendarr (which probably disturbed me more than anything else...who robs a Vigilant?), a bust of the Grey Fox, more odds and ends. By this time my bag was filling up as I had taken just about everything that hadn't been nailed down in the place - poor payment for everything Mercer had taken from the Guild but it felt suitably vindictive! - but into the bag it all went. The sword felt cold to the touch, and when I tapped a book with the flat of the blade, it froze solid. Hm...that might have some potential.
Still, I needed something more; these were trinkets. What was the plan? I started shuffling through the scrolls on the desk, and studied them with some consternation - diagrams, schematics, scrawled notes in the Thieves' Script - Delvin probably knew what they meant, the symbols were almost like the ones we used in the Silver Crescent but not quite - and one particular plan, drawn over and over again, scratched out, then drawn again, with a seated statue in the centre.
That seemed to be the jackpot and I gathered these up and tucked them under one arm, casting my gaze over a small note on the desk.
Not certain how you managed to get your hands on that item we discussed, but I'm more than pleased. I thought you'd simply wait until it was being transported from Castle Dour to its final destination, but according to what I've heard, it vanished right from their armory. I wish I knew how you were able to slip by the guards, bypass the portcullis, unlock the armory door and break into that dwarven puzzle-locked chest... you need to teach me that little trick some time. I've left your cut in the usual drop spot and might have another job for you soon.
So Mercer had been doing regular jobs for someone. And his usual flair of opening impossible locks and doing impossible jobs hadn't been lost on him. It did seem that he was getting ready to do something big. What that meant for the Guild I don't know, but chances are it wouldn't help our luck. Traps and skill and a danger only being hinted at was all something I needed to talk to Karliah about. Was about time Karliah fessed up to everything after all the heat I was taking.
Well and good, but how to get out of Mercer's den? Either all the way back or...no, Mercer would have another way out, surely. I cast my gaze round, then found behind some urns a somewhat hidden path. Eventually this led down to a door, and after I checked this for traps I opened it onto a small round room, with a hole in the floor and a ladder leaning against the wall. I peered down, squinting as I eyed the hole, then grunted. So, he had his own back and front door. Gathering up the swag in my arms, I leaped down and touched bottom just outside the Ragged Flagon. Mission accomplished; and a jolly good business it had been, too.
Well, right up until I noticed the three Altmer in Thalmor robes, that is. Never a dull moment.
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