Chapter 15

Chapter 15:  Redoran Hortator

Day 182  

“I’m sorry for that…for what I said last night.  Of course you’re worth it…you mean everything to me.”
  I turned over, and kissed his forehead then burrowed under the covers. “Anni,” he continued, “what was the nature of your relationship with Nels, honestly.”
         “I’d be a cad if I told you—.” I laughed.  I then saw the look on face, much like mine, I imagine, when he told me of Shani. “Well, I met up with him the first month after landing here.  I was only with him for a week, before heading to Dagon Fel. Julan, it was nothing serious.  I made no pretensions that it was.”
         “Maybe he thought it was more.”
         “Perhaps, but Jules, I made my intentions clear from the start. I really think he was more in love with the idea of being in love and unrequited love, perhaps.”
          “Maybe,” he said skeptically.  “Anyone else I might have to face?”
          “Not in Vvardenfell—and no, I’m not discussing this any further.  I’m sorry for what happened—really.”
           “I was a brute.”
           “Yes, and Nels was a local fob showing off.  Honestly, I don’t think cared as much for me as he did the show…now, lets not talk about it anymore.  I’m over it.  Are you?”
           “Yeah, I guess…”
           “That’s not very convincing.” I said pouting.
           “It will have to do.”
           “Okay.” What else could I say?  “Are you ready to start for Vivec?”
           “Not really, Anni.  Sure I couldn’t talk you into meeting with the Redoran first?”  

I knew he wasn’t looking forward to Vivec, and after last night I was willing to humor him.    “You know what, why the hell not?”

           “What?”  He stopped and stared at me, in total disbelief.  The expression was worth it.  It’s like a giving a child candy.
           “It seems to matter to you a great deal.  Maybe it’s important.  So yeah, let’s ditch Vivec for a time and head to Ald-ruhn.  I haven’t seen a good ash storm in weeks.”
           “I can’t believe you’re actually agreeing with me…”
            “Oh there’s a catch, Jules.”
    “Of course there is,” he said grabbing my leg. “Out with it, pretty girl.”
    “No fast travel.  No silt strider.  If I’m going to be a prophet of sorts, then I have to know something about the land.”
    “Finally.”  

We moved north from Vivec, slowly only covering several miles in day.  I wanted to absorb the country around me.  Julan had made no complaints, in fact I think he enjoyed seeing the world without the rush.  The pace we had kept earlier was unsustainable; moving from one mission to next had nearly exhausted the both of us.  So now we were ambling past the mushroom trees and the lush greenery of the Ascadian  Isles.  I knew the view would not last forever and soon lush green was giving way to rocky ash.  We had made it to the Molag Mar region, when I noticed how familiar a certain bush looked—after seeing it twice.

            “Just admit it, Nerevar Blue—we are lost,” Julan smiled.
            “We’re not lost, we’re just misplaced!” I snapped, knowing I’d get my bearings eventually.  We walked around some more until the wastes and bushes and rocks all started looking the same.  I signed in frustration, staring at the sky.
            “We’re lost, Anni.”
            “Yeah,” I said taking a drag off my hack-lo leaf.  He got me.  I had to admit it.  “We’re lost, Julan.”
            “Let’s sit down and think about it—I saw some scrub brush over there…I’ll get it and start a fire.  We’ll watch the sun go down and just relax.  No worries.”
            “I’m cold and my feet hurt!”
            “And you’re whining,” he said smirking.  “Stop. We’ll be fine.”  

Good to his word he gathered the brush and started a fire.  I took off my boots and sat watching the stars come up one by one, and the red-pink sky reflecting off the rocks. “Oh gods, the beauty of this land,” I said, barely audibly.  Even in the grey wastes, the sun had a way of creating shadows and making a statue garden out of dust and rock.  I cracked a bottle of Matze and stared at Julan cooking some scuttle over an open flame.

“I thought about killing you, you know,” Julan said quietly, stoking the fire.

"I thought about killing you."

“Just now?”

“No.”

“When you thought I’d be Nerevarine?”  The thought had occurred to me.  If I had been him—I might have done it.  I was glad he was saying this to me now—we never really addressed it.  And frankly, I never believed he was over the disappointment.

“No. When I sensed there was more to your mission then you were letting on.  It was a brief fancy.”

“How would you have done it?”  I asked out of a macabre curiosity.

“I never got that far, sera.” He looked up at me and smiled.

“What was the trigger?”  I had thought it would have been the conversation he overheard with Cossades, but something told me it was even before that.

“Sharn. When she gave you that mission and after reading the notes.  Anni I knew then, that our purposes would cross—and at that moment, I knew—somehow—that it would be you. For a moment I hated you.”

“Oh I’d say it was more than a moment.”

“No. Just when I read over the notes.  After I saw how far you’d go at the tomb…I thought you would either be the destruction of my people or their savior.  I wanted you dead on both counts.”

            “I know,” I said staring into the fire, the wind blowing the smoke through the wastes. “Because it should have been you.  I still think that.  When Cossades told me…gods,” I said, shaking my head.  “Did you hear that part of the conversation?”

“No.  Sadly I stopped listening after he asked you if you were really the Nerevarine.  I can’t describe the anger and fear.  I said I felt you betrayed me, but it went beyond that.”

“Why didn’t you do it?  I would have,” I said turning to him.  It’s true.  I’ve wiped out most obstacles with little guilt.  Had I loved something that much—had that mission been my life’s work, I wouldn’t have thought twice.

“Probably the same reason I’m not the Nerevarine, fear I guess—maybe fate.  I was also falling in love with you.”

“Was that the reason you wanted to leave so quickly for the Red Mountain—after reading Sharn’s notes?”

“Yeah.  I thought I could beat you up there somehow—that if I hurried, it would be me.  I had even thought about…” his voice trailed.

“Leading me up there and dumping my body.”  Again, I would have done the same.  

“Something like that,” he said staring into the glowing fire.  “Can you forgive me?”

“Yeah,” I said smiling. “You know, I thought that you had wanted to get rid of me because I was a criminal.  I’m kinda relieved that wasn’t the case.”

“No, actually that was a turn on.  A girl with a record and dagger,” he laughed grabbing my leg.  

“Is that what changed your mind?”

“No…no,” he said shaking his head slightly.  “When you drug my unconscious body down the side of the mountain… When I woke by you at my side,” he said gently, stoking the fire.  “That was the game changer.”

“So there weren’t any times after that, I mean you were pretty hateful.”

“I was a fool, but you understand why, don’t you, Anni?”

“I get it.  And yeah, and for the record I think it’s pretty unfair.  You’re the one with all the knowledge and belief…I just….well, I’m just here.” He turned, blushing when I said that, I smiled and continued, “I see the land and its people, and I see a god, but the prophesies and the Tribunal leave me cold.”

“Who could blame you for that?” He quickly turned. “I mean for the Tribunal, part.  They’re fake and they’re out for your blood.  They’ve mislead the people into believing they’re safe from the disaster they created.”

“Oh, I don’t know, they put a little fence up, and all.”  I laughed.  “Now come over here with your godlike body.”

“Done.  Gods bless your sense of direction, Annika.”

Day  191

         “Ald-ruhn just over those hills…Wonder who we go see?”

Life under the Skar

        “Hassour always said that Athyn Sarethi was a good person to do business with.  I guess we could start there.”

          “He’s under the Crab?”

          “Yeah, I think all the counselors are.  He has his own manor.”

       “Good.  I don’t want to go to Council Manor with this.  Mephala, this place is poorly designed.  Vvardenfell’s architecture alone is enough to kill you.”  We made our way in the Skar, or giant mud crab.  The manors were tied together through a rickety system of bridges, none of which appeared too stable.  I walked into the Sarethi Manor not expecting much, but was dazzled upon entry.  The place was majestic and beautifully designed mosaics and gilded halls filled the manor.

           "What were saying, Anni…about the architecture and such?”

         “Hmmph.”  I walked down the corridor and saw an older Dumner, who met my gaze with a haunted look in his eyes.  I’d start there. “Excuse me, sera, I’m looking for Athyn Sarethi, can you tell me where I could find him.”

            “Standing in front of you, Outlander,” he said coldly.

            “Sera, I would speak with you about the Redoran Hortator.”  He listened politely, though with an air of distraction, as I told my tale and showed him my proofs.  He hesitated, and then spoke.

            “Outlander, you have told a remarkable story.  It has the ring of truth.  You may have been deceived, but I believe you.  I may be able to persuade other councilors to believe you as well, but, as a condition of my support, I require a favor.”

            Of course you do, sera.  “How may I be of assistance to you, Sarethi?”

            “Rescue my son, Varvur Sarethi, from Venim Manor.”

            “Why is he being held?”

           “That is matter between, Counselor Venim and I. Do as I ask without question and you shall my vote.  That should be enough explanation for you.”

            “It is sera,” I said bowing as I turned to leave.  “Julan,” I said, as we left, “it will be easier to get out if there’s just one of us attempting the rescue.  Stay close to Venim Manor, but do not enter unless you hear me scream.

            “Fine, Anni, but gods, be careful, will you?  Kidnapping other councilor’s children?  And I thought the Redoran was the honorable House.”

            “We don’t know what’s going on, though I’m sure to find out.  Just remember to stay close.”  Quietly I crept into the Venim Manor, which was as spectacular as Sarethi’s.  A large Mushroom Tree was planted in the foyer.  Magnificent.  I took a guess and made my way through the right wing of the manor, though making some wrong turns in the process.  On the practice floor, I saw guard conspicuously standing in front of a tapestry. Odd place to stand. I slipped on my cloak and moved past her. I saw a note and key on the bench off to the right.  My suspicions were correct; there was a locked door directly behind the tapestry.  I needed a distraction; the guard was not blind and even with the cloak she would see the tapestry moving as I slipped behind it.  Walking to the side of the practice room, I saw a shelf with various potteries. I threw a clay pot across the room and several guards ran in its direction, including the hapless one standing in front of a wall.  Quickly I used the key and dashed into a tiny room and found a young, shaking Dunmer in front of me.  This had to be Varvur Sarethi.

            “Who’s there,” the slight man gulped.  Quickly I took off the cloak.

            “Varvur, I’m here to rescue you.”

            “Gods get me out of here!  Bolvyn Venim is merciless.  He’s the one who had me secretly arrested.”

            “Why?”

Varvur Sarethi

            “I don’t know for sure, but I think he was going use me against my father.”

            “Well, let’s get out of here, and put this on.” I handed him Julan’s cloak.  “Be prepared, all Oblivion’s going break loose if we’re sighted.”

            “I understand…uh…what did you say your name was?”

            “Anni.” Quietly, we slipped out under cloak.  The guards were still standing around the broken pot in the middle of the room.  Now’s our chance, I whispered.  We made our way out in stealth.  Julan was waiting outside the door.

            “That was quick,” Julan said as I removed my cloak.

            “I didn’t really want to stay around and chat.  Oh, by the way, Julan Kaushibael, this is Varvur Sarethi.” They nodded in acknowledgement and then we headed back to Sarethi Manor.

            “I wonder when they’ll notice you’ve gone?” I asked, hoping we’d have enough time to make it back to safety of his father’s home.

            “Around dinner, most likely,” he said shyly.  “They always brought me food.”

            “Will they retaliate?”

            “I’m not sure,” Varvur said nervously.  This Dumner was either a s’wit or he was wasn’t telling us everything.  I was banking on both, though it was not really my concern.  I would deliver him back to the loving arms of his father and be granted Hortator by Sera Sarethi.

            “Father, I have returned,” Varvur said leaning over and touching Athyn forehead with his own.  Varvur was a weakling, a shell of the man standing in front of him.  

            “Go see your mother.  She will be relieved,” Athyn sighed, then turned to me. “Annika Blue, you rescued my son.  Words cannot express my gratitude.  Therefore, I will name you Hortator of House Redoran.  I will also use my influence with the other councilors.”

            “Thank you, Athyn.”

            “Don’t thank me yet, Annika.  There is one obstacle.”

            “Oh?”

            “Bolvyn Venim will never name an Outlander Hortator, though if you have the full support of the council, he may agree to an honorable duel.”

            “Why would the council side with you, and not the Archmaster?”

            “Though Bolvyn is widely respected for the work he has done for the House, he is also a tyrant, so if he was to die in an honorable duel, no councilor could find dishonor in it—in fact, I guarantee they would not.”

            “Could you tell me about the others, sera?”

            “Of course.  Garisa Llethri will be difficult about giving you his support.  He may assign you some kind of task of worth.”

            “Quid pro quo?”

            “Exactly.  Hlaren Ramoran is temperamental, especially with foreigners, but he trusts my judgment. I believe I can win his support.  Brara Morvayn— is a sad case.”

            “Really?  Why do you say that?”

            “Well,” Athyn started, “Brara is the person that most people outside of under-Skar see as the face of the council.   She inherited her council seat upon the death of her husband and was not fully prepared—though she does her best and truly cares about the common people.  You will win her, of that I have no doubt.  Just appeal to her sense humanity and your care for the common people.

            “Who’s next?”

            “Minor Arobar is the War Commander of House Redoran.  The greatest strategist we’ve ever had, and almost certainly the greatest in all of Vvardenfell—he will most certainly question your ability to lead our people.”

            “He’ll want a strategy?”

            “Of course he will.”

            “Pity.”

            “What?” Athyn looked at me as if I’d lost my mind.

            “His want of a strategy—seeing as I don’t have one.”

            “You better get one, Outlander!  This is no joke,” Athyn spoke angrily.

            “Ai, who needs strategy when you have faith, sera,” I asked smiling. Julan shot me a look of disbelief when those words left my mouth.

            “Ai…the gods must be crazy,” Athyn said, shaking his head. “Well, best be on your way Annika Blue.  Let me know how you fare.  Remember to visit Bolvyn last; his poison might spill over on to the other councilors, best prevent that before we get their votes, eh?”      I nodded then headed out of the Skar.  Julan and I stopped at the Inn, and ate our first meal at a table in well over a week.  Shortly after eating, we crashed—too exhausted for even love.  

           “I’m done out, Anni.”

           “Me too.”

           “See you in the morning,.”   

           “Ai…” he was asleep before I could finish the sentence.  

Day 192

         "I suppose it doesn’t matter much where we start, Anne. If Athyn is securing all the votes anyway.  They must want Venim out badly.”

A Redoran Manor

           “There’s Ramoran’s Manor, let’s go there first.”

           “Surely.”  

          Ramoran was easy.  He said he had spoken to Athyn and had agreed to back me.  Next we went on to Llethri. My gods, his manor was beautiful—they seemed to be growing in beauty. Julan was of course disgusted by all of it.

         “Look at this place!  It’s disgusting! Why do people think they need to own so many expensive things to be happy?”

          “I don’t know.  Just enjoy the architecture, think of these homes as art.”

          “They’re garish and other Dumner suffer because of their largess.”

         “Well, Ashkhan, you might move to change all that.  But remember, Jules, you too will have to keep up appearances.”

         “Never!” he shouted, walking past me.  We’d see about that.

         “Garisa—.” I said though was cut off before I could finish my speech.

       “My wife, Fathasa Llethri, has requested I find her a vampire hunter.  If you have any experience, please go see her.  She’s in the manor’s private quarters.”

       “Certainly, sera.”  I turned to Julan. “Well, Jules, this has taken an interesting turn.”

       “Bah! More Vampires! The crypts smell like blood.”

       “Oh…I know you’re not very fond of them…but what’s a little blood amongst friends?” He gave me a sour look and shook his head.  “You know I took off acting where the her chambers were.  I have no idea, Jules.”

       “I know,” he smiled.  “I think that’s servant ahead.  Just follow her.”  We were lead to a stairway that opened up into chamber with three doors.  Fortunately one was open and I saw a woman, pacing.  This looked like a desperate mother.  

        “Fathasa? ” Again, I was cut off.  

        “Outlander, I need the expertise of a vampire hunter because of my son.  Please—I’m begging you—I need you help before he make a fatal mistake and dooms his soul.”

        “I and my partner, Julan Kaushibael, have had experience with Vampires—killing them that is.”

        “Perfect.  I assume you have heard talk form the servants.”

        “In truth, Fathasa—.”

       “Well, there’s no harm in telling you now.  Sanvyn wishes to become undead—a vampire.  He thinks this will give him great power and respect. Foolish, foolish boy,” she said, her hands covering her eyes.  “His soul is in peril.  Maybe you can work with me, sera.  Show my son that vampires are not all-powerful. Convince them they have weaknesses too.”

      “I will do my best.”  I walked to room at the end of the hall; inside it I found an angry, insecure young man. “Sanvyn? I am Annika—.”

       “Did my mother send you?” Cutting people off must be a birthright.  “No, don’t bother answering—oh and you’re wasting your time,” he spat.  “I will submit myself soon and finally become someone to be feared—and respected.”

       “Ah.”  He was a young man in the shadow of a greater one—his father.  I looked at Julan and thought that it was almost a blessing to be raised away from his father, the great Han-Sashael. How much he would have had to live up to?  Many children fall short of their famous parent’s mark.  I decided what tact I would take.  “You wish to become the undead?”

       “Yes!  To taste the blood of the living.  To walk the night at will, feeling the power coursing through my veins.  I wish to kill mortals and bathe in their blood.”

        “And this will bring you respect?”

        "Respect and fear!  Power to be able to crush any mortal man who would oppose me!”

        “You are a ridiculous young man.  The power you esteem is nothing compared to the pain in brings.”

       “Ridiculous?  You!  No, wait…I see.” Damn, I hope he hadn’t.  “You wish to test me.  I am worthy.  Please, you must believe me.  I will wield my power with no remorse.  I will make other mortals tremble at my sight.  I need this power!  My family will family will know I am not weak!”

       “You may be feared, but all will avoid you.  You have no idea the loneliness of the unlife.” Of course I had no idea either; I was just trying to say things in a grave voice.  Blowing smoke, really.

       “You talk in circles!  There is loneliness in this life as well!  Why will you not listen to me?  They have strength that I need!  I will join them!”

        “They are not as strong as you think; many vampires are slain by mortals—Julan and I have slain quite a few.”

        “They all fall on the same swords,” Julan said sternly.

       “Guarshit!  All vampires are powerful…and feared…and death incarnate!” Sanvyn was close to tears now.  I felt bad for him in his awkward, teen-aged way. He continued, “I know Merta is strong!  I know she cannot be bested by a mere mortal, like you Annika!  That is all I desire!  I will not rest until that power is mine!  My family—my father—will respect me!”

"She will learn what happens...."

       “You are too weak to be a vampire.” I hated myself for speaking those words.

       “I have nothing more to say to you, Outlander.  Hope to meet with you again, after Merta gives me the strength of the undead.  Be gone!”

      I turned and walked out of his room knowing there was nothing more I could say.  I approached Fathasa, not saying a word, though she knew by the look in my eye that the conversation had not gone well.

      “Oh, my foolish boy…” she said breaking down into tears.  “We must stop him before he makes a fatal mistake and loses—everything.”

       “Who is Merta?  He mentioned her, several times, Fathasa.”

        “I do not know who this Merta is, but she will learn what happens when you threaten a Redoran mother’s son!  Go find Ano Vando; he seems to be a successful vampire hunter, so much so that he did not have time for me or my child!”

      “I think I could persuade him to tell us what we need to know,” I smiled through clenched teeth.  Fathasa nodded and Julan and I headed out of the Skar.  We decided to go for a drink at the Inn.  As luck would have it, I heard a Dumner flirting loudly with the serving wench about his recent exploits with the Quarra Clan.  “Jules, I think we have our man. Let me go talk to him for a second.  Stay over here.”

       “You women and your wiles.”

       “Yes, yes, I know,” I said planting a quick kiss on his forehead, quickly my making my way towards the bar.

     “Excuse me sera, but are you the famed Ano Vando?” I asked with my most open smile, and batting eyelids.

      “Why yes, I am,” he said smiling—the wench wasn’t, but I wasn’t concerned about her.

      “Oh, I always wanted to be a vampire hunter…In fact I have my first job.”

       “Really, what’s a pretty young thing like you doing in those nasty crips?”

       “Well, it’s for a friend really, Fathasa Llethri.  Her son—.”

      “Yes, yes, I know Fathasa.  I have spoken to her about her son.  So the vampire named Merta is his undead patron?”

       “It would appear so.”

       “Well, he’s in real trouble then.”

       “Is that so?”

       “Yeah.  She’s a very powerful rogue vampire living near Maar Gan.  I have heard other vampires speak of her with fear and respect—before I slayed them of course,” he laughed and the wench joined in the syncopated laughter.  I smiled as he continued, “I’d seek her out myself, but I still have not recuperated enough from my last hunt.  Check the Reloth Ancestral Tombs west of Mar Gaan—bring potions—she might have back.”

        “I will, and thank you.”

        “Good luck to you; uh…I didn’t catch your name.”

        “Annika Blue.  Good evening, sera.” I headed back to Julan’s table.  “That braggart gave me everything I wanted to know in five minutes.”

       “You were pretty quick,” Julan said coldly.

       “Oh, let’s have a drink then get a room.  We’ll start at first light.”

       “Ok. I’ll get you a drink, Cyrodilic brandy?”

       “Yeah, perfect.” Wanting to catch as much sunlight as possible, we arrived in Maar Gan at dawn.  The town was dustier and dirtier than Ald-ruhn, no matter though, as I was merely passing through to the green pastures of the West Gash.  There was no easy way to the tomb.  We walked over the wastes and started seeing patches of green by mid afternoon.

        “Well if I was a marauding vampire, where would I be?” Julan mused.

        “Sera Vampire Hunter said Reloth Ancestral tomb.”

        “We’ve been looking for three hours, Anne and we’re losing daylight.”

        “Pretty walk though.  I saw two shrines we can hit on the way back.”

        “I was eyeing those too.  Noticed a lot of Imperials by the one off to the right.” Wonder what they’re up to?  Though wait…Anni, by those rocks…I think that’s your tomb.”  The tomb’s markings said ‘Reloth”.  The place had been opened recently, no sign of cobwebs in the door way.  We made our way in.  “Bah!  This whole place reeks of blood,” Jules said heaving.  “This is the spot, alright.”

       “Well, let’s go save our little angry friend.”  We came upon a beautiful blond, vampire.  I could see how she would appeal to an angry young man—or any man for that matter.  Merta didn’t speak, though I could see she had a ravenous appetite by the number of slaves she held, which most likely would have been the part Sanvyn would have played. She was powerful, but nothing compared to the other Quarra I had come across.  After she was a memory, I picked up her amulet for proof of the vampire’s mortality. I also attempted freeing her victims, but they were so drained and lifeless—well, let’s just say out of guilt I left the keys and a few restorative potions then we made our way out.

            “Anni,” Jules said softly as we were walking towards the first Daedric Shrine.

            “Yeah?”

           “It seems to me that every noble’s kid we encounter is messed up.  I thought having parents was supposed to prevent that.”

            “Apparently not. Its certainly seems to be the trend.”

            “When we have children…well, I would hope not to make such mistakes.”

            “Oh I’m sure we’ll make plenty.  But I think, Jules…well, it’s just a nasty set up for them.”   

            “What do you mean?”

           “Well, it seems strange to me.  These Redoran children are pampered, and then punished for being so spoiled.  They’re brought up surrounded by all the riches the Empire can buy, and then chided for their softness.  Oh…I don’t know.”

            “No, I think you’re on to something…Go ahead.”

            “Well all I was going to say is that growing up  in the shadow of greatness must be hard—thought not that I’d know,” I said laughing.  

            “Neither one of us are experts on that—and it’s fortunate I believe.”

            “Maybe if these fathers would say “I love you” occasionally.”

    Julan shrugged.  “Saying that is not really an Ashlander tradition.”

            “Well…make it one, Jules.”

            “I’ll do the best I can.”

            “I’ll be there to help,” I said laughing.

            “Anni…I was wondering…”. Oh no, he was going to ask.  

            “Mashti charmed the amulet with restorative powers,” I said quickly, clumsily.  Julan looked at me as if I had swallowed a kargouti.

            “Uh yes,…I know that, Anni.  I had her charm it for you!”

           “What you don’t know is that she also used a…uh…preventative magic.” Sorry Mashti, had to throw you under the guar.  I could see him getting visibly angry.

            “How did you know?”

          “Because I wondered too, Julan,” I said. “I’m not a complete fool—I know how these things are supposed to work.  I asked her several weeks ago.  She meant for the best really.”

            “Gah!  She’s still running my life!” I was greatly pleased we were on the other side of Vvardenfell.

            “I know…I was angry too.  It’s a bit personal…well meddling with that..”

            “Yes it is! I’m going to tell her—.”

            “…but she knew we’d be facing Dagoth and she didn’t want to see either of us…hurt.  Julan, really she meant the best.” He was quiet for a time then turned to me.

            “Right or not, she’s still meddling!”

          “And she’ll be doing so for the rest of your life,” I said laughing.  “She’s your mother, for Azura’s sake!”

            “I can’t believe you’re taking her side. Why didn’t you say anything?”

            “I’m not.  And I didn’t mention it because frankly between you finding your father, you becoming Ashkhan, and the whole Hortator thing, I forgot—sorry.” I wasn’t, but it sounded good.

            “Its okay, Anne, I’m just glad you weren’t keeping it from me.”

             “Oh, I don’t know,” I paused for a moment, staring off, avoiding eye contact.  “I really don’t know what to say.  Do you want me to take it off?”

            “Do you want to take it off?”

            “Don’t answer a question with a question,” I stalled.

            “Well…fair enough,  I can’t fight Dagoth—I guess,” he sighed.  “So…well you do what you want.”

            “I have no idea what we’re doing.” It was the truth.

            “I don’t either, but I know I love you…so whatever happens…”

            “Happens.”  I held his gaze, then turned.  “We should get back to Ald-ruhn and see our new friend.  I’m sure he’ll be none too pleased that I blew his chance with immortality.”

            “He’ll get over it.  Maybe I’ll take him out for a drink—if he’ll go.  Anni,  I had a thought about how Sanvyn could improve his lot,” Julan said, walking into Ald-rhun. “Hassour is always looking for couriers to the mainland—perhaps, well he could get some work as an adventurer—that is if Fathasa approves. ”

            “Oh, I think she might.  She’s really not that bad.  I think Sera Llethri’s a first class prick, though.”

           “Agreed.  I’ll broach the subject to him, while you’re getting their vote.” We walked through the Skar after selling all of our wares—or at least the ones we thought we could get a good price on, though a trip to Balmora and to Muddy was in order.  We got to the Llethri Manor and went straight back to Sanvyn’s room.  He looked up at us angrily.

            “There’s nothing you can say to change my mind, so just stop,” he said.  I decided to say nothing and quietly took the amulet from my satchel and handed it to him.  He looked up in disbelief followed by resignation.  “She’s dead.”

            “Yes, she fell.”

            “You destroyed her?  How could that be?”  His eyes were begging me to say it wasn’t true.  I crouched beside him, though said nothing.  He’d speak. “They were weak all along and all I’ve heard about them are lies.”

Portrait of an Angry Young Man

            “Not really, Sanvyn.  But everyone can fall.”   

            “Even the supposed Nerevarine?” he asked caustically.

            “I could easily fall—even now,” I said gently; knowing it was the truth, not simply words of comfort.

            “Ai…how will my family ever respect me now?”

    Julan spoke up, “You’ll have to carve your own destiny.  Come, let’s have a drink.  I have some ideas…but in the end, it’s going to be up to you.”

            “I’ll join you both later,” I said.  Julan nodded and both of them headed out of the manor.  I hoped that Sanvyn’s family would see the logic in Julan’s idea.  I walked down corridor to Fathasa’s room thinking about how she could be convinced.  Perhaps a scare tactic was in order—though nothing harsh enough to swing the vote.  “Fathasa,” I started, “I have managed to convince your son that a life of immortality is not in the cards.”

            “Oh, Almsivi be praised!  I thank you Annika Blue!”

            “Don’t thank me yet, you’re still not out of the ash storm.”

            “Why?  What do you mean, Annika?”

          “Well—Sanvyn is, well…he’s a difficult case.  The life of a noble’s son is not enough for him.  Through out this ordeal he kept speaking of earning the family’s—particularly Garisa’s—respect.  Fathasa, I think if he doesn’t strike out on his own, or make his mark in some way then there will be another cult or other dangerous paths he will go down.”

            “What do you suggest?”

            “Julan, my partner, knows a trader—you may be familiar with Hassour?”

            “Yes!  Of course I know him, though what he could do to help Sanvyn—.”

          This time I cut her off.  “Hassour needs couriers, Sanvyn needs out of the Skar.  I propose that Sanvyn work with Hassour in the capacity of courier or even caravaner.”

            “Let me get this straight, Annika Blue, you want my son, a noble in his own right, to be a caravaner or tradesman?  That is beneath his station!”

            “Call him an adventurer or whatever you like!  But Fathasa, I guarantee you will be calling on help again to get him away from the Sixth House or sugar if continues down the this path!  He has to get out from under his father’s—and your yoke!  Please, I say this without benefit to myself—in fact I know I could be jeopardizing my mission to become Nerevarine even speaking of this—but the facts are I met a lonely, angry young man who needs some kind of direction.  Please, Fathasa, at least consider it.”

           She paused for a long time and paced.  Slowly turning to me and sighing she spoke, “There is wisdom in your words…and perhaps there is nothing disgraceful about him becoming an…adventurer,” she said this more to convince herself than in response to me.  “Yes, I will speak to Garisa about this.  It might work…Thank you, Annika.  I wish you well on your mission.  We will go see Garisa at once.  He will give you his approval.”

          “Thank you, sera.”

         “Oh, and Annika…for all you’ve done—and risked.” Fathasa said this as she handed me a powerfully enchanted ring.  I said goodbye to her, knowing that I would give Sanvyn the ring as it might provide him with protection on his future travels.  I waited a time then approached Garisa, after I had seen Fathasa leave his side.  He motioned me over.

        “I have spoken to my wife.  You seem to get things done and show good judgment.  Your story is crazy, but your story does not matter to me, as long as you can do something about Dagoth and his damned servants.  I’m making you my choice for Hortator.”

        “Thank you, Garisa.”

        “And you, Annika Blue—for everything.”  

       I headed over to the Ald Skar Inn and approached Julan.  I noticed that Sanvyn and Hassour were talking.  Julan put his arms around me and whispered, “I think it’s going to work, my love.  What of his mother?”

      “Good.  It took some time to get Fathasa to agree, but in the end she saw the wisdom in it.  Garisa named me Hortator, as did Morvayn and Arobar”

       “So five down and one to go?”

       “Yeah something like that.  I think Venim will give us problems, but there’s nothing for it.  Let’s go see him now and figure out what he wants.  Oh, and Jules…if I haven’t said it before…well…you’re wonderful.”  He smiled at that as we left the Ald Skar, though before leaving I handed Sanvyn his mother’s ring.  “It will help you in your travels.”

Day 195

“You know Anni, I think I’m rather out of place in house like this,” Julan said shyly, staring in awe of Venim’s manor, which in fairness was truly spectacular.  He has profited greatly from his position, which could possibly work to my advantage.

Bolvyn Venim

            “You’re fine, Jules.”

          “I keep expecting someone to yell at me for tracking mud in all over their floor,” he laughed.

            “He’s a kidnapper and brute to boot.  I’m sure there has been much—much more than mud tracked all over Sera Venim’s precious floors.”

            “Well put,” he smiled.  “I think I see him, the Dumner over there with the ebony armor.”  

            “Julan, whatever he says, hold back.  We don’t fight unless he gives us reason.”

            “I know.” We walked over to him.  He was already shaking his head at me.  He was an angry looking man; I hoped I could win him as I think he would be quite a challenge otherwise.

            “So you have the support of all the other councilors for the tile of Redoran Hortator?”

            “Yes, sera,” I said quietly, my head bowed slightly.  He lifted my chin slowly and looked directly at me.

            “Well you will never get mine!  If you want the title, little one, you’ll have to fight for it.”

            “I see,” I said, stepping back from him.  “Is it to be duel then?”

            “Ha!  This ruse has gone on long enough, don’t you think?”

           “This is no ruse, sera.  I intend to be the Hortator and fight Dagoth for House Redoran. I would hope there would be some way to prove to you my worth.”

            “Go down the hall to the private chambers, find a bed, then spread your legs; for that is the only worth you have, you Imperial whore,” he said cackling, his retainers snickering with him. His words were a blow to me.  Bastard. The gloves come off now.

            “Well, if you’re so confident you can defeat me…then arm yourself and lets be done with it now.  I have a monster to fight, and a people to lead—with or without your help.”      

            He stopped for a moment then spoke, menacingly. “Fetcher, we will meet in the Arena in Vivec, for I want all to see the fall of an imposter.  Your head will decorate my bloody wall.”

            “Well, then,” I said bitterly, “I’ll meet you in Vivec.  Oh, and Venim…do wear that armor—I can sell it at good price,” I said between clenched teeth.

            “Hah!  Know this, spy, if by some miracle you win this know that I will leave strict instructions that you cannot be granted the title of Hortator.”

            “Dead men wield no power, Bolvyn!” It was a known fact.  I smelt his fear, for he knew in his heart that the other councilors did not support him.

            “Get out—now!  Be at the Arena in a week’s time!” His faced flashed in a rage.  I turned around without another word and walked out of the Skar amidst whispers.

            “Oh, that went well,” Julan said taking my hand outside the Skar.

            “No it didn’t. Let’s just head to Vivec. I want to sleep there before facing him.”

            “Anni, are you actually frightened?”

            “Yes.”

            “Come on, girl,” Julan said holding me to his chest.  “We’ll be fine.  I’ll be there with you.  Beside, this is just another brute to beat.”

            “No it’s not that easy.” I had sensed there would be something more. “Julan, this is a man who has taken on the Nords and built a great house from ash and blight.  He’s a brute, yes to be sure, be I won’t write him off as an easy challenge.” I pulled away, looking up at him and continued,  “And Julan, you cannot help me in anyway, whatever happens.  The people have to see that I am the Nerevarine.  Gods help us if they interpret any interference. The cause will be destroyed and most likely us as well.”

            “Anni, I won’t let him kill you….”

            “Just wait on the side lines.  I have to face him alone.  Please…just take me home and hold me…I don’t want to argue…please.”

Mirror

            “Alright, Anni,” he said holding my hand. We headed back to Vivec and spent each night in each other’s arms.  I woke in the mid-morning on the seventh day and stole quietly down the stairs.  I had accrued enough to make sure Julan and his mother, as well as the Ahemmusa were provided for.  I also left a note for Julan to take care of what ever the costs were to clear Ice and Vicky’s name.  I had another letter for my mother with instructions for Julan to deliver it.  I took a deep breath and stared into the mirror, whilst putting my armor on.  My face still looked as youthful as the day I arrived, no lines around my deep blue eyes to indicate the physical or emotional struggle this mission had brought to bear.  I looked closer at the reflection staring back at me and wondered if I could truly take on the role of a war chief, politician and magician—being Nerevarine and Hortator would require my mastery of all three roles.  What would happen if I failed?  Would the ash storms consume this tiny island and move to the mainland—hungry for more victims?  Would the Sixth House take the place of the Imperial Cult and leave a trail of drugged and deformed cultists in its wake?  Or would things remain much the same; Ashlanders being wiped out of memory for the greed and desires of the Imperials and Dumner?

            “You’re over thinking this, Anne.” I heard his voice behind me.

            “How long have been standing there?”

            “A few minutes.  Enough to know that you’re worried,” Julan said.  He knew me too well.

            “I am just wondering what will become of Vvardenfell if I fall today.”

            “Don’t think of it,” Julan said walking over to me putting his hand on my shoulder.  “You know we might all be damned anyways,” he said lacing up my cuirass.

            “What makes you say that?”  I was curious.

            “That we’ve let it get so far, Annika,” he said staring at our reflections.  “That’s its come to this.”

            “I know.” I said small voice and put my hand over his.  “I’m ready.  Jules, I’m handing you this.  These are instructions if something happens to me.  Please…don’t read it unless it does.”

            “Ai…Anni, but nothing will so…”

            “Just the same Jules.”  We walked toward the Arena Pit, though separated before we actually hit the stands—if I failed, he would have to make peace with all Houses, and may have to meet with Venim again.  There was no reason he should be seen associating with me.  There was a large crowd gathered, but not as many people as I had expected.  Perhaps Sera Venim was not as loved as he thought.  People looked at me curiously as I walked down the aisle.  I looked up and saw Julan standing in the side lines.

Annika takes a fall

            “People of Vvardenfell,” Venim yelled from the pit.  “This is the supposed Nerevarine Annika Blue—traitor and Imperial Spy!” A mass of taunts and boos radiated from the stand.  I never felt so low—but I had also heard a cheer when he called my name.  Looking above in the stands stood Erica, Red and Ence smiling.  How could they have known about today?  I shook my head; perhaps I was seeing things.  Venim continued his vicious rant, “I come to strike this imposter down so you can know the power of House Redoran against the n’wah!  He raised his sword and swung powerfully, hitting my shield so hard it knocked me down.   I rolled away has he brought the sword down again. My strength was speed and I used it against him; I was smaller and quicker without the Venim’s natural height or the weight of his cumbersome ebony armor.  I jumped up quickly and struck a blow to his face causing him to fall back.  Silence fell over the crowd.  He charged angrily towards me making a grave mistake of overreaching—I struck a fatal blow to his back—where the cuirass and greaves met.  A strike to the kidneys was enough to fell him—though we continued to fight fiercely for what seemed an eternity.  He had cut me several times until I hit him in such a way that he dropped his sword; I then went for the kill—slicing his throat.  Instinctively I kneeled down to face him; apologizing loudly enough for people to hear me.

            “Sera, it greaves me to know that it has come to this…Could we have not made peace in another way?”  He spat at me and the crowd grew silent, some actually booed.  “People of Vvardenfell,” I stood shouting over Venim’s bloody corpse. “Dunmer, Breton, and Imperial alike; Khajiti, Argonian and Redguard—I come to you as Hortator!  Stand behind me to drive out Dagoth Ur and plagued Sixth House!  If Dagoth succeeds then all is lost!”  Some of the crowd stood and cheered.  I kneeled down before Venim’s body, bowed respectfully, and took only his sword.  Another cheer rose from the crowd.  Quietly I walked out of the arena; I would not make another speech—a politician was not needed at this time.    Outside the ring I saw Jules and ran to him.

            “Oh Anni you’re alive!’ he swung me around joyfully. “I knew you’d come out of it—oh and virtually unscathed!  Thank gods, love!”  I smiled at this with tears in my eyes.  “I am so proud of you—you were…”   

            “Amazing,” said a voice from behind.  I turned to see my dear friends Erica, Red and Ence.  Later over drinks at the Halfway Tavern Red explained how they came to be there.

            “Word gets around, Anni,” smiled Red.

Amazing

            “Just like you,” snarked Erica.

            “Nice,” said Red, rolling her eyes.  “Actually, Anne we were in Vivec buying some materials when we heard about this big fight between some house lord and the Nerevarine.  We thought it was Julan…”  Oh, gods why did she have to say that? I saw Julan wince. I noticed that Ence caught it too.

            “But we heard that it was you,” continued Erica, “so we dashed to the Arena as fast as we could and saw this poor wretch trying to get in,” she said motioning over to Ence.

            “I couldn’t get past that large Orc woman and her brood,” Ence quipped.  “Gods, how one as ugly as her could even make a small army is unknown to me!”

            “Uhh…it’s called a bag,” said Red, then turning towards me, “Oh, Anni…I heard you have some exiting news for us.”

            “Yes.  Julan and I are to be married.”

            “When?”

            “Oh, when Dagoth is defeated, naturally,” started Julan.  

            “Yeah, who would want to plan a wedding around all that blight!” exclaimed Red. “And you’re going to be an...”

            “Ashkhan,” Jules said smiling, “Ashkhan of the Ahemmusa, Red.”

            “Oh, that’s great,” Red exclaimed. “You won’t be too far so Anni can come and see us whenever she gets bored.”

            Julan sighed.  “Oh, I think she’ll have enough to do to keep her busy.”

            “Julan, ignore her,” Erica said putting her hand on his.  “She’ naturally this stupid.  Poor dear can’t help it.”

            “Just like you can’t help those looks,” hissed Red at Erica, she then turned to Julan, “Jules, I’m sorry.  I don’t mean to offend.” Julan nodded.  I think he knew that already.

            “Well, ladies and Ence,” Julan said rising, “I am exhausted. Anni, my love I’ll see you on the morrow,” he moved over to me kissing my forehead then lips softly.

            “I love you, Julan.”

            “Good night, Anne.  Good night, all.”  We waited until Julan was out of earshot,  Red then turned to me.

            “What’s eating him?”

            “Your stupidity,” stated Erica.  “You do know how to piss people off—without even trying.”

            “Hey what the hell are you talking about, Erica?” shouted Red.

         “Oh Erica, she didn’t know.  Red,” I explained, “Julan had worked his whole life on being the Nerevarine.  Everything he knew, everything thing he had been taught had lead him up to that moment, and then I stole it from him—though that was never my thought or intention. Anyway, when found that he was not Nerevar Incarnate, well, let’s just say things have been a bit rough for him.”

            “So let get this straight,” Red said, squinting her nose in thought.  “All that time he was training with you thinking he had some kind of future as the Nerevarine when really it was you?  Wow, that’s a bitch,” Red said shaking her head.  “I’m surprised he even wants to talk to you—let alone marry.”

            “I imagine he thought it’d be him making that speech from the ring, Anni, not you,” said Ence, softly.

            “Yeah.”

           “Well, frankly I’d thought he’d have moved on from that by now,” said Erica. “Anni, it’s been months since last you wrote telling me of what had happened.”  I just gawped at her.  Wrote?  I didn’t remember writing or sending out anything.  I shook my head.

Gangs all here: Halfway Tavern

            “You know that’s the thing Erica, every time we move past it there’s always something to remind him—to open old wounds.  And I really don’t remember writing you—at all.”

            “You did.  Though it was barely legible.  I wondered what you had taken.”

            “Well, that makes two of us,” I said, and then suddenly it all came back.  “You know, it must have been that night it all went down.  We had a huge row.”  That potion was some powerful stuff—I hadn’t remembered writing at all.

            “Yeah, you indicated that, Anni,” said Red.  “Oh, I read the letter too.” Erica glared at Red.  “Oh, don’t look so surprised, Erica.  I can read, you know…well, mostly the important stuff…I got the jist of it.”

            “Anyway,” Erica said turning to me, “he’s going to have to get over this Anni.  I mean if you expect to be married.  I’ll be happy to stand as your maid of honor—though I’m certainly not a maid,” she said guffawing, “if it happens.”

            “I hope it does.”  I said sadly looking up at Erica. “I do love him like…well, like nobody else before—even when we fight. And believe it or not we’re good for each other—when this whole prophesy thing isn’t in the way.”  Ence laughed so hard, he spewed brandy.

            “Whole prophesy thing, oh Anni you uneducated dolt, I love you.  And you were fantastic today.  You know I think you actually stand a chance.”   

 

Day 196

I woke that morning to Julan lying beside me, watching me sleep. “Good morning,” he said softly.  “You looked so peaceful sleeping that I didn’t want to wake you.” I turned over and put my arms around him taking in his scent.  “Is Erica and Red at the Halfway?”

       “No,” I said turning over slowly, propping myself on elbows, “I think they went home with Ence to corrupt him in some fashion or another.”

        “Were they excited about us…the wedding, I mean?”

        “Decidedly. I think Red is thrilled about meeting some of the tribesmen.”

        “I’m sure.  Well as long as she doesn’t open her mouth, she’ll be fine.”

        “Oh, I’m sure she will, and will cause an international incident.”

        “Hmmm.  Well, where to now?”

        “Well, I suppose we’ll have to go to Ald-ruhn and speak with Athyn.  But first I’d like to say goodbye to Erica and company.  I don’t know when we’ll get a chance to see them again.”  We strolled across the street to Ence, though it took him awhile to answer the door.

        “Oh, Anni, I think we just went to bed ten minutes ago,” he said with a scratchy voice, “those girls are a mad romp.”

        “Would you expect anything less from my friends?”

        “No.  They’re delightful and they’re passed out.  You know the way upstairs.  Julan, can I get you some tea?  Who knows how long it will take her to wake those two.”

        “Yes, thank you,” answered Julan.  I went upstairs and heard the unmistakable sound of Erica snoring.  I figured a year sharing a cell with her was great preparation for a husband.

         “Erica, love.”

         “Huh?” she turned over drowsily. “Oh Anni, you heading out?”

         “Yeah, I have to reach Ald-ruhn.”

         “Always running off somewhere,” she smiled sleepily

.         “For now.”

         “Everything ok with Jules?”

         “Oh yeah.  I think he’s used to Red.  He likes you a great deal.”

         “I thought so.  Well…stop by the Metal Queen.”

         “You know it,” I said then turned to Red.  “Red, I’m heading out.”

         “I want to wear pink.”

         “Of course you do.”

       “I like him,” Red said dreamily. “Ence’s my new best friend.  Nicer than that big Nord over there snoring.”

         “Just wait till he gets to know you.  Anyways, Anni I’m glad we met him.  He’s a great connection.  He wants to start carrying Metal Queen’s stuff.”

        "I think he wants to wear them,” laughed Red.  I lobbed pillow at her.

        “He’s a good friend.  You all are.  I think you helped me through yesterday.”

       Erica turned and looked at me seriously.  “You got you through yesterday, I was just glad to see it.  Anni, have more faith in yourself.  You’ll need it.”

        “I know.” After saying more good byes, Julan and I left Ence and headed toward Vivec to catch the silt strider.

      “I wish Pelagiad has some form of fast travel, I think I am actually getting sick of all this pastoral beauty,” said Julan.

       “I agree.  So, what did you and Ence talk about?”

      “A bunch of nothing really, that man has a great talent for small talk.  Though he did tell me that you asked him to stand with you at the wedding.”

       “Well, it’s not like Old Man Septim will be there.”

       “Will you ever speak with him?”

A rather sour looking Athyn

      “No, I’d rather not.”  I had thought to of coming to him, saying I was his long lost daughter, but upon reflection I thought bastards coming forward was probably a regular occurrence.  I didn’t want a sip of bitter rejection.  “Julan, if he wants to discuss it I’m sure he’ll find me.”

       “Maybe he already has.”  I wondered that myself.  Several hours of travel later we reached Ald-ruhn.  The sun was actually shining.  I had wondered what kind of reception I would receive upon arrival.  I noticed nothing different as we walked off the silt strider.  No cheers or heckles.  Upon entering the Skar, I did see the Redoran Guards looking in my direction, though they made no attempt at speaking to me—though that was usual.  We walked into Sarethi Manor, where Athyn was standing in the hall.  Turning to me he spoke.

      “Congratulations on your victory, Annika Blue.  You conducted yourself with respect and honor.  The council has met and agreed to your petition to become Redoran Hortator. I hope you are as successful in persuading the rest of Morrowind to unite against Dagoth Ur and his hosts.  Here take this ring—everyone shall know you as our chosen champion,” Athyn said rather coolly.

       “Thank you, Athyn.”

       “I also have a sealed package for you. I do not know what it contains, but I received it from a contact in the Temple.  My guess is that it has something to do with the Temple’s position on your claim to fulfill the Nerevarine prophecies.”

       “You don’t think it’s an attempt at assignation, do you?”

      “I should think not, though you could handle it cautiously, if you’re so inclined,” Athyn said in a frustrated tone.  I had to remember this was not Archmagister Aryon I was speaking to.  Athyn was useful, but he lacked Ayron’s honesty.

      “Oh, and here’s a copy of the recent public notice identifying you as an Imperial spy.  I am satisfied of your sincerity, but I warn you that others may not be…so understanding.”

      I glanced at the notice briefly, it calling me all sorts of creature and such.  Just a glance enraged me.  I looked up coldly from the notice and asked, “Will you take over House Redoran, Athyn?”

    He looked at me in utter distain, “Gods no, don’t be ridiculous.  I would imagine they would pick someone much younger.”

     “Well thank you for your time, and your help.”

      “Good luck, Hortator, you carry our last hope.”  Julan and I made our way out of the Skar with noon on the horizon.

       “You going to open it, then?”

       “Right now, but first—oh yes—there they are; but first I’ll exercise some caution,” I said putting on my gloves.  “Let’s start with the Public Notice.”

The outlaw named Annika Blue, stated trade of Adventurer, lately called 'Incarnate' and 'Nerevarine,' now is shown to the investigating Ordinators and Magistrates of this district to be an agent in the pay of the Imperial Intelligence Service. This outlaw's claims are false. The prophecies this outlaw cites are discredited. The dishonest character and base purposes of the outlaw in perpetrating this hoax are now made clear to all observers. Annika Blue is sought for various crimes by Ordinators and town guards. Report all encounters with this outlaw to the proper authorities. If you see this outlaw in public, give the alarm.

Published by the authority of the Temple, the Order of the Watch, Magistrates of Vvardenfel District, under the signature and authority of Grandmaster Berel Sala, Captain of the Watch. Hear and Heed!

        “Julan, we need to get out of here now.”
        “Ok.  But let’s get to the shack first and at least change.  We have those cloaks.”
        “Nobody knows—.”
        “No Anne.  I had Hassour purchase it to be sure.  I figured it might be used as some sort of safe house.  Now let’s go!”  We took separate paths to the shack though it took me some time to find it as Julan’s directions left much to be desired.
       “What took you so long?” A cloaked figured said standing on the threshold of of small shack, smoking a hacklo.
       “Your directions.”
        “You mean your sense of direction… 
       “Whatever.  Let’s just get inside.  I’m actually nervous.”

       “Don’t be.” Julan said lighting the torch, to reveal a dirt floor with a sleeping bag in the middle of the room.  I’d seen and slept in worse.  I took out the letter and started reading.

    To the Outlander lately proclaiming his identity as the Nerevarine, to be delivered with haste .

The assertions made being in direct contradiction of the doctrine of the Tribunal, namely, that you are the Nerevarine, the reincarnation of the Sainted Lord Nerevar, are, in addition to being against Temple teaching, incredible and implausible in the extreme.

The revelations made by the Inquisition, namely, that you yourself are in fact an agent of the Imperial Intelligence Service, otherwise known as the Order of Blades, lately made with substantial evidence by the Lord High Archordinator, Berel Sala, further calls into question the validity of and motivations behind your claims.

However, as incredible as your claims are, as much as they are in direct contradiction of the teachings of the Temple, and tainted as they are by the inferences to be made upon your close association with the covert policies and interests of the Emperor, the interests of the Temple and its leadership, and in particular, the interests of His Immortal Lordship, Vivec, are best served by a close and personal examinations of the claims being made, and close and personal examinations of the motivations and character of the claimant.

The Temple, through its examinations of its records, in particular, the records of the Heirographa and Apographa, is intimately familiar with the many and varied claims of signs and feats that would mark the Nerevarine according to prophecy.

Therefore, in the event of the fulfillment of certain of those most remarkable and scarcely credible claims -- namely, that the claimant should, at one time, be the acknowledged holder of several ancient titles of power and authority of the Dunmer people, to whit, Hortator of the Great Houses and Nerevarine of the Ashlander tribes -- the Temple proposes that the claimant of the identity of the Nerevarine shall present himself for inspection before his Reverend Honor, Archcanon Lord Tholer Saryoni, High Archcanon and Chancellor of Vivec, Archcanon of the Canonry of Vvardenfell, Arch-Priest of the High Fane, for a review and consideration of his claims and identity. However, until such time as the claimant actually has been named Hortator separately and jointly by the three Great Houses of Vvardenfell, and at the same time has been named Nerevarine separately and jointly by the four tribes of the Ashlanders, there is no purpose in reviewing or discussing these claims.

Because of the Temple's official position on the prophecies of the Nerevarine, and in the interests of preserving the security of the claimant from those parties who might wish to do him harm, it is convenient that the claimant of the title Nerevarine shall present himself in secret to Archcanon Saryoni in the archcanon's private quarters in the High Fane of Vivec.

To signify agreement with these terms and conditions for a meeting with the archcanon, the Nerevarine claimant may present himself to the healer of the High Fane of Vivec, Danso Indules, and the necessary arrangements will be made. Once again, no purpose is served by a meeting until the claimant is named Hortator of the three Great Houses and is named Nerevarine of the four Ashlander tribes.

Written at the request of and in the name of his Reverend Honor Tholer Saryoni, Archcanon and Chancellor of Vivec

Dileno Lloran, priest of Vivec, assistant to the Archcanon

       “Sounds like it was written by a bloody lawyer.”

       “I have no doubt it was, Jules.”

       “So they want to meet with you, eh? After calling you a liar and spy for the Emperor.”

      “Of course they do, Jules. Vivec, the almighty god is frightened.  For whatever reason he can’t beat Dagoth himself.”

       “Because he is no god!”

       “I agree. But I’ll see what he wants—when it’s convenient for me; and after I’ve had a chance figure what it is I want of him.”

       “Good show, Anni,” Julan said smiling.  “So where to now, pretty girl?”

       “Well, it’s a beautiful day, why don’t we hoof it to Vivec—make some more money and see some more of this beautiful land, before anyone else comes along and ruins it.”

       “Sounds like a plan” Julan said, kissing me softly.