Chapter 22

Chapter 22

     I had managed to put off Brynjolf for the time being by telling him I needed to run some errands, and I must say that I spent far longer haggling over a new saddle for Gormlaith than I normally would have.  After that I spent nearly an hour at the stables just brushing the muddy stains out of the white patches on her coat and even combed her tail and mane for good measure.  I only stopped after that hour because Cerawyn showed up to see to her horse and I wasn't in the mood for chatter, so I escaped around the back of the stable before she caught sight of me.

     Next I needed to go to the blacksmith to have my swords sharpened after banging them on so many pieces of Dwarven machinery, so I asked the blacksmith to take as much time as he wanted sharpening it.  When the man turned out to be very efficient and had them done in few couple minutes I went to the apothecary and bought a few potions I had no use for whatsoever.

     I was procrastinating and I knew it, but I didn't want to deal with Brynjolf at the moment.

     The simplest thing would have been for Aetra to just leave, but if Brynjolf didn't already know who she was such a move would confirm any suspicions he had instantly.  Therefore we were both stuck here in a situation that I neither wanted nor needed at the moment as I needed to report to Jarl Brunwulf as a Stormcloak officer, not deal with Thieves' Guild business as the Guildmaster. 

     Finally, as the sun was once more starting to sink below the horizon I slowly made my way back toward the inn.  Steeling myself, I went upstairs to the main room and spotted Brynjolf sitting at a table in the corner out of earshot of the rest.  I navigated the busy room and sat down opposite him, assuming an air of nonchalance.  "Okay, what's up?"

     Brynjolf leaned back and regarded me for a moment.  "I'm glad you're still in one piece, that's what's up."

     "Care to explain?" I suggested, pretty sure I already knew where this was going.

     "Do you remember that botched job we handled a while back in Morthal?  You distracted the guards while Cynric covered us from the rooftops, I called the shop owner away on some nonexistent business, and Vipir went in to change the ledger and steal that dragon vase at the same time?"

     I remembered the job well, although I tried to avoid thinking of it whenever possible.  The shopkeeper had been so paranoid he wouldn't leave his shop, so we had devised an elaborate plan requiring all four of us to get it done.  Little did we know that someone else was after the vase, and whoever it was had killed Vipir and stolen the thing at the same time without leaving a trace.  "Of course I remember it.  What about it?"

     "That was where I saw Aetra.  Right after the job, walking along the street near the shop," Brynjolf asserted grimly.

     What?  "Are you sure?" I didn't know how to take this right now.  I had been prepared to defend Aetra, but if this was true....  Well, it explained why he had brought Cynric.  Cynric and Vipir had been close friends for years.

     Brynjolf looked at me in disbelief.  "Come on, lad.  A master thief walks by right after the vase disappears and Vipir is killed.  There's only one conclusion to draw."

     "That isn't the only conclusion to draw," I rejoined.  "I can think of several times I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

     "So I thought too, so I thought too.  So I followed my other lead, her family name.  I asked my contacts whether any of them had heard the name Raven-Blade before, and one got back to me a few days later with a rather interesting story."  Brynjolf waved the barkeeper away, then continued.  "My contact's friend was a close friend of the family and knew her as a child.  Turns out she was actually born in Cyrodiil to a wealthy noble family with a lot of influence.  She left with her older sister for unknown reasons, supposedly headed to Skyrim, then wasn't heard from for years."  He leveled his gaze at me, daring me to interrupt, but I said nothing.  "That's not the interesting part, though.  My contact knew someone else who had known her in Cyrodiil.  He told me that when this man saw her again a couple years ago, she refused to talk to him beyond telling him that, and I quote here, she had 'found her calling with the Summerset Shadows'."

     I knew Brynjolf was watching me keenly to see what my reaction would be, and I knew I was supposed to act shocked and outraged, but I couldn't put up the pretense at the moment.  Her past was news to me, but obviously I knew she was a Summerset Shadow, or had been anyway.

     "But you know that," Brynjolf said slowly, a spark of anger starting to grow in his eyes.  "You let her into the Guild knowing who she was?"

     "Of course not," I growled.  "I had no idea that she was a Summerset Shadow until-" I stopped abruptly, unsure of how to continue without giving Brynjolf even more reason to hate Aetra.

     He instantly jumped on my words.  "Until what happened?"

     My mind jumped from possibility to possibility trying to find a way to deflect that question.  "Nothing," I evaded. 

     "Nothing my eye.  I'm not stupid Kisvar, and I've known you too long not to be able to tell when you're lying through your teeth.  She did something, didn't she?"

     "I handled the situation," I deflected.  "Anyway, she was just about to leave when you and Cynric showed up.  She's leaving the Guild, so the point is moot."

     Brynjolf let his hands fall to the table with a thump.  "So you would just let a potential threat to the Guild walk away, after she clearly did something so traitorous you don't even want to talk about it?"

     "No, I'm letting a member of the Guild leave and go on her own path," I snapped back.  "She's no threat." 

     Brynjolf raised his eyebrows at the hollow ring to my words.  "You don't even believe that yourself," he pointed out truthfully.

     "She's no threat," I repeated more decisively.  "Anyway, this is my choice to make."

     That was entirely the wrong thing to say.  "Your choice to make?"  Brynjolf said so loudly that the chatter at the surrounding tables died as everyone looked at us.  "You know who else made choices by himself?  Mercer!"

     It took me a minute to find my voice.  "You're comparing me to Mercer Frey?  I killed Mercer.  He took everything the Guild stood for and threw it in the dust and ground it to a powder with his boot.  I am nothing like Mercer."  Contrary to Brynjolf, as I grew angrier my voice deepened into a quiet growl. 

     "I'm not comparing you to Mercer, Kisvar, but you can't make decisions like this alone.  Aetra was part of the Guild and her treachery concerns us all, not just you," he insisted, ignoring the people still watching us nervously.

     Somewhere in the back of my mind I noticed that he had called me Kisvar instead of lad.  "What exactly is it that you want to do?"

     "Get rid of a traitor and liability," Brynjolf said grimly.  "I don't know where you've been, but you were due in Windhelm three days ago.  Obviously something happened, and since you won't tell me what or how you figured out Aetra was a Summerset Shadow, it must have been pretty bad."

     "You are not going to kill her."  My voice lowered with deadly earnestness. 

     "She killed Vipir, and I don't know what she did to you, but please don't insult my intelligence by saying 'nothing'.  She is a threat, an enemy, and a traitor, and the Guild deals with traitors."  Brynjolf placed careful emphasis on the words.

     "She is not a threat or our enemy any longer," I tried to convince him.  "She'll leave for another province and you'll never have to see her again."

     "Is that what she told you?"  Brynjolf stood up.

     I stood up too and ditched the convincing tone, going for threatening.  "Unless you want to kill another Guildmaster, you'll leave Aetra alone."

     "You're going to threaten me for wanting to kill a traitor, really?" Brynjolf put a hand on his sword.

     "She's not like Mercer," I insisted, resisting the urge to grab my own weapon.  "He was too absorbed in his own interests and wealth and saving his own hide to change, but Aetra is not that revenge driven person anymore."  Somehow, before now I hadn't actually fully believed my own words, but now I could see truthfully that Aetra was nothing like Mercer and would do nothing more to hurt the Guild, no matter her past actions. 

     "Um, excuse me?"  Brynjolf and I both rounded on the innkeeper, who wilted under our collective gaze.  "Can you take this outside?"

     "No," I snapped shortly and turned away, though I did lower my voice.  "Look, you don't even have to give her a chance.  You just need to let her leave, then you'll never have to deal with her again."  I put all my earnestness into the words, praying to Nocturnal that he'd just listen to me.  "If you trust me at all, then trust me on this one.  This doesn't have to end with someone dying."

     Brynjolf hesitated, hand still on his sword.  I hurried on, "The Thieves' Guild is exactly that, a guild of thieves.  We aren't the Dark Brotherhood, and we don't need to act like them, not now."

     He held my eyes for a moment, then blinked and looked away, dropping his hand off of his sword.  "Fine," he said shortly.  "We're all trusting you here, lad.  If she doesn't leave tomorrow and head out of the province, we will deal with her."

     "She'll be gone by then," I promised.  Actually by "leave" I was pretty sure she hadn't meant she was leaving Skyrim, but she now had no choice.

     "And I doubt Cynric will be as understanding," he warned me.  "He and Vipir were partners, and Cynric swore to avenge him after what happened."

     "I'll deal with Cynric."  Honestly I had no idea what to tell him, but I had time to figure it out.

     Giving me one last doubtful look, Brynjolf moved away from the table.

     The next instant was a confused cacophony of noise as the window shattered into a million shards of glass as a small object whizzed through it and buried itself in the chest of the innkeeper, who had still been standing behind Brynjolf before he moved.  He fell with a surprised gurgle, clutching at the arrow while the whole inn erupted into screams as people ran every which way.  From long habit I dove to the ground next to the table, but no other shafts came my way.  I swung around and peered out the window, muscles taut as a bowstring to pull back if I heard a telltale twang. 

     Several dark figures were creeping toward the inn, nothing more than shadows within a shadow with an occasional glint of torchlight off a weapon giving them away. 

     Never in any scenario I had imagined in my mind had the Summerset Shadows been brave, stupid, or desperate enough to actually attack Candlehearth Inn in Windhelm.

     "What is it?" Brynjolf asked tensely.

     "The Summerset Shadows."  I glanced out of the window again, ignoring Brynjolf's exclamation.  "Before you say it, no, Aetra didn't lead them to me.  She helped me escape from them and now they're after us both."

     "However it happened they're here now."  Brynjolf looked around the room, which was now mostly empty except for a drunkard lying in one corner.  "How many?"

     "They've been recruiting everyone they can find, so more than we can handle."  I chanced another glance out the window.  All the torches were extinguished now and screams came from the darkened street, as well as the clanging of metal on metal. 

     "Sounds like the guards might handle it."  Brynjolf drew his sword despite his words.

     Aetra suddenly burst into the room.  "Kisvar, the Summerset Shadows-"

     "We've noticed."  I pointed at the dead innkeeper.  "Where are the Companions?" 

     "Not in the city.  They had some kind of quest to do at the farms outside."

     "Probably a bear or something.  They take care of that kind of thing every once and a while.  Has anyone seen Cynric?" Brynjolf asked.

     "Not since this morning," I informed him.

     A door slammed somewhere below and I drew my swords as well, thanking Nocturnal that I'd had them sharpened earlier.  Aetra fingered the handle of one of her daggers, glaring at the entrance.

     As booted feet clomped loudly up the stairs Brynjolf gestured to me, leaning back against the fireplace.  I instantly caught on and joined him on the left, preparing for a surprise attack.  Aetra moved into one of the alcoves in the walls, swiftly dousing the lantern nearby to melt into the shadows.

     Four hooded figures came into view, moving cautiously.  "No one's up here," one grumbled in surprise. 

     "Yes they are.  Areldil almost shot the redhead and we have the building surrounded."  The woman who had spoken looked about suspiciously.

     "Maybe they went out the window?" another suggested, noticing the broken glass.

     My heart started pounding loudly in my chest as the four sets of footsteps thumped closer and closer.  Brynjolf glanced at me and held up three fingers.  One, two, three-

     I spun out from behind the fireplace with a battle cry and buried my ebony sword in the throat of one Summerset Shadow then slashed his body out of the way with my Daedric sword.  I heard Brynjolf engage the one on the left and dodged the sword of the woman, spinning around her to attack the fourth in the knowledge that Aetra would take her on.  In a few seconds it was all over and we stood panting from the effort spent even in that short time. 

     "We have to get out of the inn."  Aetra headed for the door, and knowing she was right, Brynjolf and I followed.  Aetra almost ran into another Summerset Shadow at the bottom of the stairs and just managed to avoid his wild swing.  I jumped down the last two steps as she parried and drove both swords through his torso while he was distracted. 

     I pushed past Aetra as she righted herself and led the way to the door.  It was pitch black outside and two figures leapt at us as we dashed outside.  Aetra and I each engaged one, grimly trying to keep our distance as our eyes adjusted to the darkness.  I managed to get in a blow around the woman's guard and slice her on the leg, sending her to the ground where I could finish her with ease.  "Brynjolf, behind you!" I shouted as I spun to meet another attack. 

     He whirled and just managed to avoid the blow from the Summerset Shadow who had come out of the inn.  I didn't see any more as the figure in front of me took up all my concentration.  Neither of us could see anything and we were practically just hacking and hoping we would hit something.  Luckily for me he (or she, I honestly had no idea) tripped over an uneven stone in the street and got a sword through the stomach as a reward.

     I pushed myself back to my feet, heart pounding like a blacksmith's hammer, swords raised and prepared to meet any offense.  When none came I lowered the weapons slightly.  "Brynjolf, Aetra?" I asked into the darkness. 

     "Here," they said in unison. 

     "We can't stay here.  Get out of the city, regroup across the river to the south," I ordered, noting the distant sounds of combat somewhere in the direction of the Palace of the Kings.  Whatever Shadows were left, the guards would handle them, and once they realized we had left the city they would follow. 

     "They'll expect us to go south," Aetra warned me.

     I barely heard her.  Had someone just relighted a torch?  Suddenly my confused mind made sense of what I was seeing and I down to the ground yelling, "Get down!" just as the flame atronach shot a fireball at our little group.  The deadly missile flew past and stuck a portion of a house across the street from the inn, catching it on fire instantly.

     Despite my fear that the fire would spread it provided us some desperately needed light.  The atronach floated closer and I spotted its conjurer peering out from behind a building.  Cursing the fact that none of us wielded a bow and Cynric was nowhere to be found, I considered how we were supposed to kill it.  I dodged as another fireball joined the first one in the inferno of the house.  "Cover me."  I didn't wait for an answer but sprinted to the right, leaping over bodies and weapons.

     The atronach turned to follow me, its expressionless face watching me soundlessly.  If I was wearing my Daedric armor I could just charge up to it and ignore the fireballs, but with Thieves' Guild armor that wasn't an option.  So, ignoring the atronach, I sprinted straight for the man who had conjured it.  His eyes widened when he realized what I was doing and the atronach turned all the way around and floated quickly toward me, turning its back to Brynjolf and Aetra.  They took it out while I chopped off the head of the unfortunate spellcaster. 

     "Now let's get out of here."  I jogged off back around the side of the inn.  Maybe the front gate wasn't the greatest way to go, but we needed our horses. 

     All three of us stopped as the sound of conflict came from ahead as well.  I could see black-cloaked figures fighting guards at the closed gate. 

     "Side gate," I said tensely, but it was too late.  A couple Shadows broke of their attack and ran after us, forcing us to stop and fight them.  After dealing with them I spotted more figures silhouetted by the burning house and headed further into the Grey Quarters rather than deal with them as well.

     The Grey Quarters were eerily quiet, with every door and window shut and locked tight.  My footsteps seemed abnormally loud in the silence, and I turned to make sure the second set I heard wasn't an enemy then breathed a sigh of relief when I saw it was Aetra.  "Where's Brynjolf?" I asked in a whisper.

     "He kept going back toward the inn and ducked into an alley that way."  Aetra kept glancing all around us warily. 

     I glanced to the right down the alley we need to go down next, then looked back.  "He'll be-"  I meant to say fine, but instead I let out a surprised yelp and clutched my face as a stinging pain traveled down my cheekbone.  A second arrow clattered off the wall next to us and I had a confused impression of a figure with a bow standing on top of a roof before we ducked behind the building and out of sight of the archer.

     "Areldil," Aetra cursed.

     Having ascertained the cut on my face was just superficial, I carefully inched my head around the corner of the building and jerked it back again as the twang alerted me to another arrow.

     "How in Oblivion can he even see well enough to shoot?" I growled.

     Aetra furrowed her brow.  "And how did he know where we were and get here so quickly?  It also isn't like him to risk everything in a futile attack on a major city like Windhelm."  She pressed herself against the wall as another shaft darted past and bounced off the stones with a clink. 

     "There's no way we can kill him from here," I admitted, frustrated.  "Let's just get out of Windhelm while we can and we'll take care of Areldil when the odds are more in our favor.  Is there anyone down the alley?"

     I felt Aetra turn that way beside me, then turn back.  "Seems pretty-" she ended in a cough.

     "Pretty what?" I asked impatiently, eyeing the rooftop of the building next to the one Areldil was on to make sure he hadn't moved there.  When she didn't answer I turned around. 

     She stood straight up slightly away from the wall, staring soundlessly down.  I followed her gaze and time ground to a crashing, thundering halt. 

     A long, glinting arrow shaft protruded from her chest, the pointed tip gleaming dully.  I looked up from it into her eyes.  The sparkle faded, the lids started to close, and her eyes widened with the last realization that nothing and no one could save her now. 

     She crashed heavily to the ground before my shocked and deadened mind could think to catch her, but it didn't matter.  There was nothing left to catch but a body.  Her wide open eyes stared at the starry sky, reflecting the moon that had just emerged from behind the clouds with unmoving stillness.

     I stood utterly stunned just staring at her.  For a moment Areldil, Brynjolf, Miraak, Skyrim, even time, nothing mattered.  My mind was utterly blank.  How could someone who had spoken mere seconds ago be dead?  It made no sense, she had been talking, moving, breathing!  I didn't understand, what had happened, how had it happened-

     And with that my mind snapped out of its paralysis.  The arrow had come from the direction we had been planning to go, opposite where Areldil had been shooting from.  How in Oblivion had he managed to get off that building and get behind us so quickly?  He couldn't have at all, it was completely impossible.  Yet who else could have shot the arrow?  My head snapped up like that of a hunting cat, looking for something, someone to kill.

     Cynric stood on top of a house, bow raised, his face clearly illuminated by the full moon.  He saluted me, waved the bow, and disappeared over the other side of the building.

     I started after him but another arrow flashed past me and hit the house nearby. 

     Areldil.  This was Areldil's fault, all Areldil's fault.  Cynric had shot Aetra, but Areldil had killed her when he sent her to join the Guild. 

     A red mist flooded over my eyes, obscuring my vision.  Something stirred deep within me, roaring with loss and anger and helplessness.  Even in my current state I realized that it wasn't a dragon soul.  This was something else, something darker, and for a moment fear of it nearly allowed me to regain control of myself, but it was too late.  My parents, my Stormcloak soldier friends, Aetra, I was sick of losing people and it was time for someone to pay.

     I moved out of my shelter with complete disregard for safety, the dark city suddenly illuminated clear as day as I put all my anger, rage, and hate into the Death Shout.

     "Krii Faaz Vul Nil!"  Slay Agony Dark Void.  The fourth word came so naturally I realized I'd know it ever since leaving the dragon's cave. 

     The whirling vortex of blackness utterly shredded the whole roof of the house, blowing it all into unrecognizable rubble and instantly killing Areldil.  With my new vision the dark shapes of several Summerset Shadows appeared like black figures on a white background, and I spun around and around, Shouting again and again as the waves of power refused to wane, surrounding myself with circles of death.