Eye of the Wind – Ch. 3 – 6: Playing the Ruse

• Posted by Kyrielle Atrinati September 16, 2012 - 366 views

  Derkeethus went ahead, checking each tent for Legate Hrollod.  After several minutes of wandering around the camp, he found him sitting on the edge of his bed, drinking hot mead from a copper mug.  We stood at the entrance, and I wondered how you knocked on a tent.  Did you tap the flap?  Or strike the supporting post?  Go "a-hem" and hope they noticed?

  However, we were spared from that minor dilemma when Hrollod turned to look at us.  His grey eyes glanced at me and his brow furrowed, then the slid over to Derkeethus.  His brow furrowed further.  "What brings you here, my Argonian friend?  And who is the elf you bring with you?"  Though his voice spoke of life within Cyrodiil, I could hear the traces of ancient Nordic roots hiding behind his words.

  "Darkwater Crossing has been attacked," I said.

  "What!  You were supposed to protect them!" Hrollod exclaimed, rounding on Derkeethus.  "Don't tell me you can't handle a couple of bandits.  Did Hrefna survive?"

  Recoiling, Derk held up his palms in surrender.  "It-it wasn't bandits.  Legate Constantius has led an organized attack on the village.  He means to seize control over the mine."

  "We fought them off.  Hrefna is safe for the time being," I added.

  Frowning, Hrollod glared at the ground in thought.  "After my position, I see.  He must have found out about our little deal as well as the one I made with the local Stormcloaks.  If he exposes us, we'll both be put on display in Solitude.  You are aware of this."

  "Of course," Derkeethus replied, his voice dripping with as much servility as he could stand.  "Our display of bravado has shaken Constantius for the time being, but he will be back before the sun is high."

  "And with greater numbers," finished the Legate.  "Very well.  It's clear to me that Darkwater Crossing must once again be observed more closely.  I'll prepare my men and we will move camp at once."Within the hour, Hrollod assembled his men before him and the camp was already disassembled.

  "Servants of the Empire!  That is our title, yet we are also sons of Skyrim are we not?"  The soldiers grunted an affirmative, many sounded just as Nordic as the Stormcloaks they often fought.  

  "We are sworn to protect the citizens of the Empire, and those citizens, our people, are in danger.  The village of Darkwater Crossing has been attacked by our own forces."  There was some murmurs of confusion and distrust.  

  "They are attempting to lay waste to the village so they might seize the mine.  Without this mine, you would not have your swords.  Your armor.  Your lives would be forfeit without contributions of these citizens--these sons and daughters of Skyrim.  It is time we repaid them!"  

  Together the soldiers shouted, knowing their long days of idling were over.  "We march!"

  Derkeethus and I rode behind the company, flanking them and watching the surroundings for anything that might attack.

  Hrollod looked north across the plains at the lightening sky and doubled the pace.  At length he turned to us and we trotted over, easily keeping time with his steady, but rapid footsteps.

  "Elf, you are swift on the horse I can tell.  You and the Argonian ride ahead.  Warn the village of our coming.  Remind the Stormcloaks of our deal.  It wouldn't do to be attacked before we could even explain ourselves," he said, barely breathing any faster than if he were walking.

  With a nod, I clicked Nael into a gallop, Derkeethus doing the same.  We sped over the rocks and through the pools, the horses remembering the way from hours before.  The landscape sped by as the sun pushed off from the horizon, red and glaring, into a sea of clouds.

  "At least now we can get a good seat to watch the entertainment," Derkeethus grinned as we pressed on.  "Though the rain might put a damper on our view."

  We reached Darkwater as the light grew stronger, though grayer, and leaping from my horse, I made way to explain the plan to the guard.  Before I got there, I glanced over by the fire to see Hrefna standing with her mother, eating breakfast.  What drew my attention was the shadow moving behind her.

  Slowly, a khajiit shrouded in dark leather advanced from behind the tents, dagger drawn and gleaming gold in the light.

  "Hrefna, no!  Get down!" shouted Derkeethus, seeing the same figure.  

  My bow was already drawn and I had an arrow trained on the khajiit when the cat snagged the girl by her hair and pulled her close, laying the dagger on her throat.

  "Kill me, and the girl dies!" the kidnapper cried, pulling Hrefna back behind the tents.  I hesitated.  Derkeethus shoved past me and charged after the girl, heedless of the warning.

  "Mommy!  Help!" she scratched and bit at her captor.

  "No!  Let my baby go!  What is she ever worth to you!" Tormir shouted, flinging her bread to the side.

  Quick as a bird, the khajiit grabbed the girl by the arm and dragged her up the path.  A dense fog that had begun out on the marsh, lurked among the houses.

  "Let me go!" shouted Hrefna, kicking and trying to trip her kidnapper.  The khajiit only yanked on her arm and shook her as they ran.

  "Silence!  Or I'll cut out your tongue!" she hissed.

  Derkeethus and I darted after her as they ran through the village.  Men and women peeked their heads out of doorways.  The local guard drew their swords, but all too slowly.  Tormir brought up the rear, caterwauling wildly as she saw her daughter disappearing into the growing fog.

  I ran as fast as I could, sprinting all out, but the khajiit was lighter and faster, even with the struggling child.

  Heaving and breathless, I stumbled and fell to the ground.  The others were still behind me and catching up.

  Squinting I saw the khajiit seize the little girl about the waist.

  She pulled a small vial of some dark fluid and threw it on the ground.

  Noxious clouds of gas spewed from the liquid, my vision teared and blurred.  

  Every orifice in my head burned and itched.

  With a mighty leap, the khajiit took to the trees...

  ...and was gone.

  As the smoke cleared, Derkeethus and I frantically searched the area for any footprints of signs of their passage.  We saw only the footprints of the girl leading up to the place where the cat jumped, and nothing more.

  For hours we scoured the road, the forest, the mud.  Looking for something.  A broken branch.  A fallen leaf.  A shred of the girl's dress.

  Nothing.

  Returning to the village, resigned and defeated, we found Hrollod had arrived with his men who, with the aid of the local guard, were also combing the ground for clues.

  "She's gone," I said, panting for breath.

  Derkeethus collapsed against the trunk of a tree, holding his face in his hands and looking as if he wished nothing more than to sink into the ground and disappear.

  The Legate knelt and examined something I had missed in my panic.  An arrow protruding from the ground, pinning a note to the dirt.

  "It's not over yet," he said, pulling the parchment from the shaft.  To my right, I saw Derk peer hopefully up from his curled position.  "It's a message from our dearest friend," Hrollod sneered, handing the note to me.

  The Argonian carefully got to his feet, keeping as much distance between himself and the Legate as possible, which really meant using me as a living barrier.  He craned his neck over my shoulder and together, we read the note.

  My Most Impotent and Irritating of Charges,

  I see you have met my failsafe in our little agreement.  

  Alas that she was unable to take the Phial from you when she arrived in the village, but I know she will return with something equally as valuable and useful.  No doubt you have used the Argonian's connections to secure the aid of that incompetent fool, Hrollod.  

  It will do nothing to save you.  If anything, his involvement has only ensured the White Phial will be returned to me, whole and functional.  I will be certain to have him rewarded for his cooperation.

  As for the two of you, who are no doubt reading this together in one of your disgusting displays of companionship...  You will repair the Phial.  You will return the Phial to me.  In exchange, I will spare the child and set her free.  You will not be so fortunate.

  The choice is yours.  The child and her life, or the Phial and yours.  You have until the first snowfall in the southern reaches.

  Don't disappoint me,

  Legate Constantius of The Pale

  Uncertainty clouded the Legate's features.

  "Derkeethus, that is your name still," he stated.  My friend nodded warily.  "For years you have looked after this village.  While we were camped here, you provided my men with the means to arm themselves against our own brothers.  You also stole from us and traded everything back to the Stormcloaks when they offered you more."  Derk cringed, believing his end was nigh.

  "But my daughter loves you.  You were there when I was not.  So I offer you this one last condition of our deal, and I will consider your pardon official."

  "What would you have me do?" the Argonian asked.

  "Repair this phial the Legate spoke of.  Bring it to him.  End him and bring back my daughter."

  "We don't even know where to find him, now.  I doubt he's still wherever "The Pale" is," I said.

  "Leave that to me.  I still know a thing or two about working through the Imperial bureaucracy.  I'll follow his trail and contact you when I have his location.  Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to say hello to my daughter's mother."  With that he marched away, leaving Derkeethus and I to decide what to do next.

  "Of course, the golden question is, how do we repair the Phial?"  Derkeethus murmured.

  "We'll figure something out.  Quintus will find something soon.  I hope."