Eye of the Wind – Ch. 10 – 1: March over Marsh

  • For a long time  I wandered the city, doing everything I could think of to drown out the barrage of thoughts and suspicions swarming my mind.  Derkeethus did little to aid me in that endeavor.  Among my smattering of conflicting emotions, my friend continuously fed me images of his various meetings--snippets of false political negotiations and trade agreements--as well as his constant questioning of the events in the Bard's College hours ago.  It took all of my willpower not to think of Valindor and the kiss we shared.  Or of the horrific images that preceded it.

    Instead, I thought carefully around those ephemeral hallucinations as one might evade a sleeping sabre cat.  My father.  The Wild Hunt.  Is that what I turn into?

    Turn into what?  Derkeethus responded before launching into another tirade of "Where were you"'s and "What happened"'s.  Studiously, I ignored his pleas, feeling only slightly guilty.  It was really none of his business, and I was gradually coming to resent this connection of ours.

    The sun set and soon it was dark in the streets.  A Breton boy carrying a staff bearing a tiny wax candle passed me on his way to light the city's lanterns.  Ahead, Solitude became a study of contrasts:  Pools of warm light in a cold darkness floated like islands in a swamp--bastions of safety from the thieves and night predators.  Salty air cut through my clothing and I pulled my robes tighter about me.  Stars opened their sleepy eyes overhead.  The night sky was piercingly clear.

    Sensing Derkeethus growing weary, I waited for him in the dark, watching the skies wheel slowly in their cosmic course.  It had been a trying day, and I was so weary of pretending to be someone else.  All at once I had pledged my loyalty to the Thalmor and, by extension, the Aldmeri Dominion; found that Constantius was as power-hungry and dangerous as suspected; and encountered a being beyond my experience.  Valindor was certainly more than a mere Bosmer, of this I was now sure.  What he was, precisely, I did not know, but whatever it was, it attracted me with an intensity I found disturbing.

    Above, a star shot across the sky, sealing another hole made by the Magna Ge.  Would all of the holes seal themselves one day?  Would we be plunged into an eternal Sithian darkness?  Shadows out of the corner of my eye moved and I shivered.  What good is it to worry about such things now, though, I thought.  Eras will pass before that ever happens.  Feeling cold at last, I shuffled my way towards the front gate, ducking into the inn to my immediate right.

    Warmth oozed through my clothing and into my skin as the smell of roasting meats filled my head.  Belatedly, I realized exactly how hungry I was and lost no time ordering a bowl of rich crab stew before making my way to a table near the fire.  All about me men and mer and bet spoke contentedly of their days.  Two men, evidently farmers or dockworkers, chatted near at hand.

    "Oy!  Snilling!  You seen that guard careening through the marketplace earlier?"

    "No, but one of those damn Imperial's nearly run me over."  A grunt of agreement from the other party.  "What'd that guard want?"

    "Said he was lookin' for some Wood Elf and her Argonian.  Said they was dressed up like so'diers."

    "Oh, aye, I saw folks like that over by the hay stall this morning."

    "Why didn't ya bring 'em in?  I bet they's payin' a pretty septim for 'em."

    "Well, I woulda, but that blasted priest started preaching a sermon in my ear, and by the time I got rid o' him, they were gone."

    His companion clicked his tongue dismally.  "More's the pity.  You coulda used those septims."

    "You're telling me."

    Returning the dish to the inn keeper and renting a room, I stole away to a dark corner where I stood listening to the bard.  I hoped the men wouldn't see me, especially the one called Snilling.  The bard's voice was off key and vaguely dissonant, but her heart was in the words.  As she launched into a ditty about a poor sod named Ragnar, an Argonian snuck from the shadows to stand next to me.

    "At last, those insufferable courtiers had me negotiating trade agreements for hours," Derkeethus murmured.

    "And what did you get out of the deal?" I asked stiffly, knowing full well he had arranged for some kind of shady benefit.

    At this, the Argonian grinned wickedly.  "Only for a shipment of leather and precious metals in exchange for territory that does not exist, sold by an An-Xileel member that had never been hatched."  Ignoring my reproachful glare, he continued, "Not to mention a hefty tribute of septims to the wonderful ambassador who made this all possible: Leaps-Too-Soon.  Me."  He jangled something in his pocket proudly.

    "I suppose our purse is no longer empty then," I replied with a resigned sigh.  We watched the bard and inn patrons for several more moments while Derk rabidly scarfed down his own form of dinner.  When he finished, we retired upstairs to our room.  There, he revealed a cask of familiar smelling liquid.

    "Rotmeth!  Where did you get this?" I exclaimed as he poured me a tankard.

    "Being a fake ambassador does have its perks," he smiled, flexing his scales with pleasure.  As I sipped at the sour concoction, feeling liquid scorch the back of my throat, I remembered the last time I drank Rotmeth.  Evidently, Derk remembered what transpired even more clearly as his scales darkened to a near black.  Grimacing, I resolved to only drink a little.

    "I want to leave before dawn.  While it's still dark," I said.

    "Sneak out of the city?"

    "Yes.  I have a feeling my 'surveillance' will be following us out of Solitude."

    "They're probably watching us right now," Derkeethus growled, flattening himself to the floor and peering out under the door.  He made a strangled hissing sound before the faint thud of muffled footsteps faded down the hallway.  "We'll have to do better than this if we're going to escape their notice."  I nodded, thinking of what would happen next.

    "What happened at the Bard's College?" he asked, breaking the long silence.

    "Nothing important," I lied dismissively.

    "Then why were you running away from that low down, conniving little--"

    "Nothing happened that you need to be concerned about," I ground out through my teeth.

    "As you say," he said, lips drawn tight.  A tense silence followed before we finished our drinks and went to sleep.  The bed was wide enough to accommodate the two of us, though we slept as close to the opposite edges as possible.  Sleep was nigh impossible with Derk's constantly roving thoughts--clouded images spiked with edges of distrust.

    Morning came with the faint crow of a rooster.  Dragging ourselves into consciousness, we woke as silently as possible.  The Argonian crept to the door where he listened for several minutes.  At his nod, I slowly slid open the window.  Deftly, I slipped through the opening and dropped to the ground some ten feet below me.  Derkeethus followed, albeit rather awkwardly.

    As he landed, I clasped my hands around his snout before he could grunt in pain.  A moment passed where we stood face-to-face; close enough to feel each others' breath.  In the darkness of pre-dawn, I felt him take my hands and squeeze them.  "Let's go," I mouthed at him, feeling slightly lost for any comment as I slipped my hands from his.

    With a sigh of frustration, my friend followed me through the streets.  The lanterns burned low, their flames guttering as the last of the candle wax melted.  By first light, the candles would be replaced to be lit once more by dusk.  Such a regular cycle of life and death for the city's lights.  

    Slowly we crept along, evading the guards at the gates by mere inches.  There we waited in the shadows until one opened the gate as he changed shifts.  Already, a faint light was entering the sky.  Outside, we kept to the side of the road, using the decorative foliage to conceal our forms.  Overhead, thunder rumbled menacingly off the coast.  This is a bad sign, I thought, recalling the last morning that began with such thunder.  Nael pushed to the brink of death, lying crumpled on the road.  A pang of guilt answered that image and Derkeethus glanced at me apologetically.  

    At last, we made our way back to the carriage.  My friend retrieved our belongings from the tree while I looked to the carriage driver, who cocked an eyebrow at me expectantly.  "We'll be going on foot from here," I said.

    "Watch your step, lass.  Them fens are nothing but trouble," he replied, tipping his head my way before reining the horse around and starting off down the road.  The wooden wheels squealed creakily until the cart disappeared around a bend.

    Thunder grumbled darkly as Derkeethus returned and we donned our armor.

Comments

1 Comment
  • Kynareth
    Kynareth   ·  December 15, 2012
    The photo of the Gwaihen pondering the night sky is beautiful...I am actually envious of her solitude to ponder life, though she has much greater things to ponder than I do!   Lovely entry overall.
    Valinor and his sickle shaped smile...it finally st...  more