XI

Flavia had imagined the worst when Gunnar had told her that something had gone wrong with Alberic. She had feared that his wounds had reopened, that he had a fever or that he had caused trouble with the princess again. But she really hadn't expected that.

Lying on his bed, Alberic seemed to be doing very well... a little too well even. With a relaxed smile on his face, he was giggling like an idiot and playing with his hands as if he had suddenly become a child again. He didn't seem to be aware of his surroundings. Master Imril was examining him while Princess Shazira was also present, her four bodyguards still watching over her. She was looking down and seemed nervous now that Flavia was there. The young khajiit was carefully avoiding her gaze.

- "What's going on here ?" Flavia inquired as she approached the bedridden boy.

- "Good question, Captain," the altmer replied. "The poor boy seems to be in a very curious state."

- "Is that you Captain?" Alberic looked drunk as he laughed. "Hey hey hey... why do you only have one eye?"

The former legionnaire wrinkled her brow at such impertinence. Ordinarily, the young Breton would have immediately stood at attention before her. He really wasn't in his right mind.

- "Has he been drinking?"

- "I don't think so," the mage replied, shaking his head. "His pupils are abnormally dilated and I don't smell any alcohol in his breath."

- "Hi hi hi... hey, Gunnar...," Alberic chuckled. "You know why it always seems like elves have a broom up their ass?"

Usually, the Nord was fond of this kind of joke with dubious humour, but he managed to keep his seriousness in spite of it. He knew very well that Flavia did not share his sense of humour and the situation was not conducive to it.

- "So what's wrong with him? "

- "Excellent question. I'd ask him, but the boy is clearly in no condition to answer." His tone indicated that he had not appreciated Alberic's joke at all. "I have my own ideas about that..."

And to emphasize his words, the mage turned an insistent gaze towards Princess Shazira. The young khajiit was nervously fiddling with the handle of her wicker basket.

- "Young lady, do you know exactly what happened?"

- "Well... I... I came to visit him."

- "For what purpose?" the elf continued in a friendly tone.

- " I... I wanted to teach him how to read. "

- " A very commendable initiative, miss. How did you intend to do it? "

- "With... with this book."

The young khajiit reached into her basket and pulled out a book, which she handed to Master Imril. Master Imril grabbed it before checking the cover.

- "The Two Moons Primer. A children's book..." he commented with a wry smile. "But it's a big basket to carry one book. What else is in it?"

Shazira didn't dare answer, her lips pursed in an embarrassed grimace. At Flavia's stern, questioning look, she finally handed the basket to the mage, who inspected it carefully before taking out what looked like a small pastry. He brought it to his nose and sniffed it carefully.

- "Mmmmh... almond fritters. A real treat, I bet. Filled with moon sugar, isn't it?"

The princess nodded quickly in response.

- "I think we have our culprit.[1] " The altmer seemed particularly proud of his find. "How many did the poor boy eat? "

- "He... he... he only ate one..."

- "One? Really?" the elf insisted.

- "Actually, he... he took two... no, five," the princess admitted with the look of a child caught with her hand in the jam jar.

- "Five? I'm afraid the poor boy will be in this state for a while, Captain."

Flavia had listened to the exchange without saying a word, but the anger and disappointment was clear on her face. Shazira was more nervous than ever at the coldness in her eyes. With clenched fists, the captain approached the bed with a heavy, threatening step.

- "I'm getting tired of this bullshit... you hear me, Alberic?" she said slowly, her jaw clenched.

- "Back at you, Cap'n! Pfffrrr hi hi hi..." The boy gave a particularly awkward military salute.

This was too much for Flavia. It wasn't the first time Alberic had gotten into trouble and, until now, she had always ended up wiping the slate clean. But this was the last straw. She had been far too accommodating to him from the start. Ten lashes would not be enough this time.

- "Gunnar," she called dryly.

- "Yes, Captain?"

- "You will watch over him. When he comes to his senses, let me know immediately. In the meantime, get the whip ready."

The Nord nodded. He approached Alberic as Princess Shazira threw herself onto the bed, crossing her arms over the young Breton as if to protect him.

- "No, please," she shouted. "Don't whip him again! This was all my fault. It was me who forced him to eat those doughnuts. It's not his fault so please... don't punish him again."

Despite her fear, the young khajiit held Flavia's stern gaze without wavering. Her body trembled slightly but she held Alberic tightly in her arms. Still oblivious to his surroundings, Alberic raised his hands to scratch Shazira behind the ears.

- "I've always wondered, Shazi... heh heh... do khajiits purr like cats?" he muttered in a stupid voice.

- "Please... don't hurt him," she pleaded again.

The princess's intervention had surprised Flavia, who was now looking at her in some amazement. Her anger had suddenly vanished at the strange look in her eyes. Her eyes still showed some fear, but she seemed determined to protect her friend. Flavia hesitated for a moment as she recalled Lady Toziri's words about Shazira's lonely childhood.

After all, the boy had only eaten a few pastries and he probably didn't know they were stuffed with moon sugar. It would have been hypocritical of her to punish him for such a reason when she had so often passed over Gunnar's many drunken outbursts during their years of service together.

- "Very well," she sighed. "He will not be whipped, nor will he suffer corporal punishment."

- "T... thank you..." the young khajiit stammered with relief.

She was now aware of what she had just done and suddenly felt feverish. She managed to stay on her feet despite her wobbly legs.

- "This story isn't over yet," the mercenary captain said in a tougher tone. "He'll get a serious talking to when he wakes up. As for you, Princess, if you are truly responsible for this, we will have to inform your aunt. Perhaps it was not a good idea to let you..."

Flavia suddenly paused. An echoing sound now reverberated through the night. A quick, insistent metallic clang, as if someone somewhere on the plantation was banging a hammer on an iron plate. Gunnar had already put his hands to his axes while Flavia looked worried.

Moments later, Captain Tasarr'Do entered the mercenaries quarters, a serious look on his face.

- "Captain Flavia, assemble your men," he ordered calmly before turning to Shazira, clearly surprised by her presence. "Princess, what are you doing out after curfew?"

He shook his head, judging that the answer could wait. He had other things on his mind.

- "You four!" He pointed to the Khajiit guards present. "Escort the princess to her chambers immediately and do not let her out of your sight for any reason."

- "Aye, aye, Captain!"

The four guards pounded their chests before urging Shazira to follow them. The young khajiit seemed reluctant to leave Alberic alone in such a state, but she had no choice. She followed them outside without making a fuss.

- "Captain Tasarr'Do," Flavia called out. "What's going on? Why do we hear an alarm?"

- "I don't know yet. Farmers are reporting a large number of armed strangers on the estate. Several workers are already dead.

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- "An attack? But from whom?"

As she spoke, she inspected the straps of her armor before fetching her bow and quiver of arrows that lay by her bed. Gunnar was already stretching his shoulders and rubbing his axes heads together. Master Imril looked nervous while Alberic continued to laugh like an idiot.

Captain Tasarr looked at the mercenaries one by one and his fingers tightened a little more on the hilt of his sword.

- "I don't know," he admitted.

*  *  *  *  *

Usually, nights in Peletine were filled with the song of insects, the trickling of water and the soft, soothing whistle of the wind. But tonight it was a different symphony that was playing at the Golden Cane Farm.

The increasing wind could not drown out the distant sound of fighting and the cries of the dying. The workers' hovels on the edge of the farm were in flames, along with some of the crops. The attack had been as swift as it had been brutal and the attackers had left no chance for their victims. Men dressed in black went from house to house setting fires or chasing farmers who tried to flee into the fields. Many innocent people were already dead and the bodies were piling up, their blood now staining the clear water of the culture ponds.

The defence was organised as best it could. The only armed men on the estate were the guards under the command of Captain Tasarr'Do. With Flavia's mercenaries, there were only seventeen fighters to defend the place. The mercenary captain had left Alberic behind because, given his condition, he would have been good only for being killed. She had asked Master Imril to look after the boy and it was with some eagerness that the elf had accepted. The latter seemed relieved not to have to fight outside in the middle of the night and the storm that was blowing ever stronger.

And now she, Gunnar and the Khajiit guards were wading through the moon sugar crops, trying to fend off the mysterious attackers. Up until now, the attackers had been content to tear up the area around the estate in small groups. They seemed to be content with their indiscriminate and blind acts of destruction, and none of them had yet approached the heart of the estate. Good, Flavia thought. It was always easier to establish a distant line of defence as it gave the defenders more choice and options. But one question kept coming in her mind.

Who were these black-clad attackers? Bandits? Mercenaries hired by a rival of Khan Razirr'Ri? Or something else? She needed to know...

Without a word, she walked among the moon sugar canes, her senses alert as she scanned the surrounding darkness. The glow of the fires reflected off the water in the pools and allowed her to see clearly. She knew that Gunnar was there too, hidden by the vegetation of the crops and protecting her back. His axes gleamed faintly in the moonshine and he was incredibly quiet despite his massive bulk. There was no one else with them. Captain Tasarr'Do had split his men and the foreign mercenaries into four groups to intercept as many of the enemy as possible. Unfortunately, Flavia's group was greatly reduced without Alberic and Imril, so she had to be more careful than ever. The kid had really picked a bad time to stuff himself with moon sugar.

She put her thoughts aside as she heard screams nearby. She glanced at Gunnar and the Nord nodded. The two mercenaries hurried in the direction of the voices and soon discovered the source of the screams.

Two Khajiit farmers were being chased by five of these mysterious assailants. They were running through the ponds and the black-clad men were gaining on their prey. With a wave of her hand, Flavia signalled Gunnar to move to her left flank. The Nord immediately obeyed, hiding in the nearby vegetation. With calmness and confidence, the captain took the first arrow from her quiver to notch it and draw her bow. She waited patiently for the workers to pass her before taking her first shot.

The arrow whistled briefly through the air and struck the first pursuer in the chest. He collapsed to the ground in great sprays of water. His comrades immediately stood still, frantically scanning the area for the shooter. This gave Flavia enough time to shoot a second arrow and a second enemy fell in turn, hit in the back, just between the shoulder blades. But this time the captain's position was revealed and the last three attackers dashed towards her, brandishing their weapons.

They had only taken a few steps when Gunnar came bellowing out of the vegetation and fell on them like a murderous hurricane. His axes whistled through the air to strike his opponents with unprecedented violence. In the blink of an eye, two of the men in black were knocked out. The last survivor hesitated as he faced the giant Nord with his now blood-stained axes. He was frightening to behold with his shaggy beard and his carnivorous smile. An arrow stuck in his throat ended his hesitation and he collapsed with a strangled groan.

- "Too weak," Gunnar grumbled, spitting on the nearest body.

Flavia didn't answer, but she agreed. She'd faced tougher and more organized enemies in the past. They obviously lacked cohesion, discipline and training.

The captain turned one of the bodies over with the toe of her boot to observe it carefully. His face, like the others, was hidden under a clay mask and he wore no armour or blazon to identify him. She could make out a symbol crudely painted in red on his black robe, a snake coiled around a skull.

- "Captain," Gunnar called to her, "What should we do?"

Flavia stopped her examination of the body to turn her gaze to the nearby fires. This was no time for guesswork and her military discipline quickly took over. When she gave her orders, her voice was as cold and calm as ever.

- "We protect the farmers and repel the enemy... now."

*  *  *  *  *

All was chaos and confusion at the Golden Cane Farm. Farmers and Khajiit workers fled in disorder as their homes and fields were ransacked and burned. Captain Tasarr'Do's guards were hard pressed to repel the invaders. The attackers made up for their lack of organisation and training by their overwhelming numbers and blind fanaticism. The guards were fighting three to one and this only made the battle even more fierce and chaotic.

All this chaos and confusion was the perfect opportunity for an assassin.

Clad in his leather suit and his face hidden under his hood, Dronos silently slipped through the shadows. His figure glided quickly from one cover to another, avoiding the fighting and the guards to go deeper and deeper into the heart of the estate. From time to time he would look at the flames of the fires in the distance. His fellow adepts were doing a great job of drawing attention to themselves. This storm had also come at the right time and made it much easier for him to sneak in. But he had no time to think about that. He had to focus on his mission.

He went on his way, running with the suppleness and discretion of a cat. His footsteps made no sound and his dark figure was almost impossible to distinguish in the darkness. He pressed himself against a tree to avoid a group of Khajiit guards who were running towards the battle area. They quickly disappeared around the path and the Dunmer assassin immediately started moving again. He climbed a small hill overlooking the estate and his sharp eyes scanned the lights in the night to observe his objective.

Still silent as a shadow, Dronos slid down the hill to approach Lady Toziri's mansion.

*  *  *  *  *

Alberic had never felt better in all his life.

The colours were brighter than ever and every detail or sound seemed funny and wonderful. The ceiling above his head seemed to ripple, as did the windows, while the creaking of the wood in the wind sounded like a sweet melody to his ears. How had he come to this?

He could only remember bits and pieces of confused and disjointed memories. He saw the princess' face so close to his as she taught him to read. She had even taken his hand to draw the outline of some of the letters written in the alphabet book. He didn't know why, but he thought her big blue eyes were beautiful, even the left one, so strange with its two colours. And her fur was so soft. It was like caressing velvet.

Alberic was sure of it now, he was not in his normal state.

He had little recollection of what happened next. Shazira had challenged him to eat those curious but delicious pastries and he had finally, with hunger, given in to her provocations. The young mercenary couldn't remember how many he had eaten. Probably too much, apparently. It was afterwards that he had started to feel as good. Then other people had entered the room. The images were blurred but he remembered Captain Flavia and her stern look. Then there was that distant sound that rang like a bell in his ears. Everyone had gone out in a great rush. Something unusual had happened... something serious.

And Shazi? Where had Shazira gone?

Slowly, Alberic's mind became clearer. He had the feeling that something terrible was happening. At that moment, he knew he should be with the princess. It was his duty and his job to protect her after all.

The young Breton sat up on the bed to find that he was now alone in the mercenaries quarters. Master Imril had disappeared. It didn't matter, he thought, all he needed was his sword. He found it at the bottom of his bed and bent down to pick it up by the handle. This simple gesture made his head spin and a violent headache assailed him. He froze as he felt a sudden gagging in his stomach.

- "Oh no..." he muttered.

Unable to resist his nausea any longer, he barely had the time to lean over before he vomited loudly onto the floor.

*  *  *  *  *

Princess Shazira was anxious and worried as she paced back and forth in her room.

She couldn't shake that bad feeling. The fires, though distant, were clearly visible from the window, and she suspected that if it weren't for the storm, she would be able to hear the sounds of fighting and the cries of the dying. Her heart was pounding and she didn't like it one bit.

The presence of Captain Tasarr'Do's guards did not reassure her. Two of them guarded the corridor outside her door while the other two watched her closely in her room. Silent and unruffled, they stood vigilant, ready to draw their weapons if necessary. They would give their lives for the princess.

Shazira glanced out the window to look at the mercenaries quarters in the courtyard. The lights were still on and the princess wondered how the poor Alberic was doing. Because of her, he was now a mess and unable to stand up. Somehow it comforted her to know that he was lying in bed and not fighting out in the storm.

When she had come to him to teach him to read and bring him those doughnuts, she had done so to make up for the little incident with the lion. But once again, she had unintentionally caused him a lot of trouble and she sincerely hoped that he would not be punished by the terrifying one-eyed woman. That Flavia still gave her the creeps and she still couldn't believe she had stood up to her by defending Alberic. Shazira even felt proud of her little bravado.

She looked back at the fires in the distance. The princess did not know what was going on out there, but it could not bode well. It even seemed to her that the fighting was getting closer, for she could now hear the sound of weapons and the shouts of the combatants. Shazira listened carefully and quickly realised that these noises were not coming from outside, but from the corridor.

She was not the only one to notice, for the two guards in her room had turned towards the door and tightened their grip on their weapons. Sounds of struggle and muffled grunts were coming from the corridor. Had some of the assailants managed to get into the mansion?

The silence fell sharply in the house and the seconds passed slowly without anything happening. Finally the door creaked open and the blood-stained body of one of the guards in the corridor fell to the floor of the room. Shazira couldn't take her horrified eyes off the pool of blood that was now growing on the parquet. When she looked up, a dark figure stood in the doorway, one foot stepping casually on the corpse.

Dressed in a black leather suit and with his face concealed, the stranger glared at the occupants of the room with disdain. His eyes glowed under his hood and the princess felt the hairs on her back stand up as she remembered the man who had tried to kidnap her from Rimmen. He looked exactly the same.

- "Good evening...", Dronos whispered with a sinister breath. "I'm sorry for the mess, but I promise you this will all be over soon."

*  *  *  *  *

Raising his sword above his head, the adept hurled himself at Gunnar while screaming. His long robe hindered his strides and he didn't seem to know how to hold a weapon properly. The matter was quickly settled when the Nord stopped him in his tracks by throwing one of his axes at him. The weapon flew through the air before stucking in his chest. The cultist fell backwards under the violence of the blow. He was dead before he even hit the ground.

- "Bring it on, you horkers !", Gunnar shouted, glaring at the other cultists.

The adepts were hesitating in front of the giant Nord for he had already slaughtered half a dozen of them without the slightest effort. His axes and hands were covered in blood, but his thirst for carnage and violence was not satisfied. They turned on their heels and disappeared into the night.

- "Hey, come back," Gunnar shouted, "I was just starting to have fun! Tsss... you wimps!"

The Nord spat out his contempt before picking up his axe from the dead body. Flavia understood his frustration better than anyone. Like any good Nord, he liked two things in life; drinking and fighting. He hadn't had a drop of mead in months and now that he could finally let off steam, his enemies seemed determined to take that pleasure away.

- "What's wrong with them? I thought they were here to fight," he grumbled, unable to hide his disappointment.

- "Strange, indeed...", Flavia admitted.

She and Gunnar were in one of the housing estates that served as a residence for the Khajiit workers of the Golden Cane Farm. The houses and huts were in flames and the bodies of many farmers were strewn about. The same macabre scene was repeated all over the plantation. And each time the mercenaries intervened, the mysterious assailants disappeared almost immediately.

Flavia took the opportunity to take a closer look at the bodies of their adversaries. They all wore the same long black robe and a clay mask with smiling and peaceful features. The symbol of the snake coiled around a skull was a recurring theme for many of them, painted on their clothes or tattooed directly on their skin. There were not only khajiits among the bodies, and Flavia could count many humans and even some elves. But that wasn't the strange part.

- "There are far more of them than us. Why don't they all band together and strike at one point?"

Whenever she and Gunnar intervened to repel the attackers, the latters would fight for a moment before immediately fleeing to hide in the fields. If the mercenaries tried to pursue them, they would scatter and disappear into the night. Such tactics suggested that their enemies were more organised than they appeared. And what was the purpose of such an attack? These masked men and women did not seem interested in looting. They were content to do as much damage as possible.

- "Nothing but weaklings." Gunnar snorted contemptuously. "They wouldn't fight, they wouldn't do otherwise."

It was finally the Nord's grumbling that brought the answers to Flavia's questions. The evidence struck her at once and she turned her gaze towards Lady Toziri's mansion. Despite the distance and the storm that was blowing, its windows shone like headlights in the middle of the night.

- "Damn it!" the captain spat. "Gunnar! Follow me!"

Without even waiting to see if the Nord was following her, she started running in the direction of the manor, cursing herself for her stupidity. How could she not have realised earlier?

Their enemies were not looking for a fight. They were only trying to buy time.

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Notes:

[1] Consumption of moon sugar by people who are not used to it triggers a powerful euphoria, followed by great fatigue. Although khajiits are immune to these side effects, they may nevertheless develop a certain dependence to this spice.