Sister, once you have picked up the packages, send them on to me at Broken Oar Grotto. The fool who did our work at the lighthouse should arrive shortly thereafter; make sure she is taken care of.
It was signed with Swims’ alias. There has to be an explanation, was my first thought. I tried to reinterpret it. The wording wasn’t clear, was it? Had she misunderstood his intentions? But he called me a fool. I considered it might be a forgery, but I know Swims’ hand too well.
I’ve got to talk to him, I decided frantically, and I turned to the staircase just as a marauder appeared at the top, sword drawn. I charged up the stairs and through the tween deck, slaughtering every marauder I met. Lydia was waiting where I’d left her and joined me without hesitation. We left none alive on board that damned ship.
I didn’t know where Broken Oar Grotto was, but it was well known to the workers on the docks, who directed me westward along the coast, past the doused light.
The first grotto I entered turned out to be the wrong one. It was just a stinking cleft in the cliff face, filled with horkers. The nearest of the beasts turned toward me and bellowed a challenge. Not in the mood to waste time, I cast a calming spell on him and backed out. Calm was a spell used by my mother to keep patients still while she cauterized wounds or pulled arrows. I’ve always known it, but had never thought of using it to avoid a fight before.
Broken Oar Grotto was unmistakable when I finally found it. I poked my head in and saw a huge cave-like canyon, flooded with seawater, but built up with scaffolding and board walks. Clearly this was the marauders’ headquarters.
I turned to Lydia and asked her to wait for me at the entrance. I just wanted to talk to Swims, alone. I wanted to keep things calm, and couldn’t have Lydia leaping to my defense at the wrong moment. I activated my Calm spell and stepped inside.
The Blackbloods turned out to be a huge gang—possibly larger than the Riften Thieves Guild. After trying the calm spell once, I gave up on it. It works great on dumb animals or patients who want its effects, but it has little effect on murderers who’ve already drawn their weapons. I had to fight my way through the cave, and the more of them I came across, the less I minded killing them.
Finally, I found their headquarters. Toward the back of the grotto, a large ship was wrecked and a towering scaffold had been erected over the top of it. The area crawled with marauders. Unfortunately, I was on the wrong side of a drawbridge fifteen yards over the water. I took a few steps back, ran and leapt off the ledge into the water.
I climbed out the other side and attempted to sneak up to where I thought I had seen Swims. I was soon under attack by more marauders than I could count—including Swims! I grabbed him by the wrist and hurled him into the water, then leapt in myself.
I had forgotten that argonians could breathe underwater. Swims just settled to the bottom and gave me that toothy grin while I was forced to surface and breathe. He wouldn’t come up, and we couldn’t very well talk down there. I finally swam to the first ladder I found and climbed out, once again on the wrong side of the cave.
I snuck back up the trail and watched from the shadows on the far side of the drawbridge as Swims climbed out of the water and back up to where ever he had been before.
An idea occurred to me, which I had read in a book but never tried. If these guys were too mean to be calmed, maybe it would be easier to make them fight each other. I molded a fury spell, and threw it across the grotto at the first movement I saw. I missed, but it provoked a good deal of scurrying around as they tried to find the source of the noise. By the time I built up the energy to throw another one, they had settled back down out of sight. Once I could, I threw another one, and watched as they scurried around like enraged fire ants. I drank some potions to build up my energies, and after a half dozen tries, I finally hit one of them, and it worked like a charm. I watched as my target turned to his nearest companion and attacked him. Despite myself, I snickered.
So that idea worked, but it was slow, and my patience and my potions ran out at the same time. I jumped back into the water, and started the long climb up the scaffold a second time. This time round there were fewer guards to worry about, and I was able to get in close, throw another fury spell into their midst and then duck back under cover. I slowly whittled down their ranks until I gained Swims’ attention. I watched from my hiding spot as he paced back and forth overhead, trying to spot me. Finally giving up, he said in a loud voice, “When you tire of your games, come speak with me.”
Well that was exactly what I wanted to do, so once the fire ants settled back down, I charged up a Calm, climbed one last ladder and stepped into his office. He drew a long dagger and leapt at me. I threw the Calm, but it had no effect. I pulled my shield up and backed away. “I just want to talk to you! For the love of the Divines, Swims!”
“There’s no more talking,” he growled.
“Why, Swims? We’re best friends!”
He drew back at that. “Friends?” he asked. “You were never my friend. You were my hero. I knew I could count on you. That’s why I leapt into the water that night. That’s why I nearly died for you—and then went to the Mine! And you just disappeared! Off to make your fortune killing dragons that you summoned upon us!”
He leapt at me. I didn’t mean to raise my dagger, but before I knew what was happening, he was hunched over my weapon hand, choking and spitting blood, and then he was dead at my feet, his tail still twitching like a separate being.
“Swims?” I whispered.
Another marauder ran into the room, war hammer raised, drawn by the commotion. I let the rage I’d been holding inside for weeks boil to the surface, and I hacked him apart. I hunted down and slaughtered the last of the marauders. I didn’t bother to loot. I stumbled my way back to Lydia, and she led me by the hand out of that place. The rest of that night is just a blur to me.
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