“From everything we’ve heard, Vile is weak. And all daedra are vulnerable here, in Tamriel. They can’t come here unless summoned, and even then their power is curtailed. He could send his followers, but they would be mortal, like us.”
“Right. So what now?”
“I’m going to my room to think. I’ve changed my mind about summoning daedra to explore the castle. From what I saw of Sathil, he would notice that, and I’m pretty sure we won’t survive his suspicion a second time.”
“Okay. I’m staying in the bath for a while.”
“Easy on the whiskey. We may have to fight at any time.”
“Sure,” Attrebus said, taking a final swallow of the stuff.
Sul left. Between the bath and the whiskey, Attrebus felt pretty human, and after a while the water actually seemed too hot, so he got out and wrapped himself in the heavy robe he’d been provided. He pulled out Coo and opened the little door, but Annaig wasn’t there, so he set the mechanical bird on a table next to the bed.
He was tired, but not sleepy, and sat on the mattress turning the day’s events about-and wondering what Sul would do-when he heard a light knock at his door.
He answered it and found an anxious-looking Irinja.
“I heard what happened,” she said. “I hope you weren’t hurt.”
“I’m fine,” Attrebus assured her. “But I need to know-did you tell anyone about our conversation? Did you tell anyone that we were looking for the sword?”
“No,” she said. “I wouldn’t do that.”
He studied her face for a moment, searching for signs of disingenuity, remembering the conversation with Sul about his weakness for women.
“Come in,” he finally said.
“Your highness isn’t dressed for company.”
“I’m covered and comfortable,” he replied. “Come in.”
She did, and he saw the expression on her face, the same as he’d seen on many young women. Not long ago he would have taken advantage of that look in an instant, without thinking. Now he found himself uninterested.
But he needed to know where Umbra was.
“I was having a bit of whiskey,” he told her. “Would you care to join me?”
“Highness?”
“None of that, remember? Do you want the Frost Giant to come after me again?”
“Oh, no,” she replied. “Yes-a dram of whiskey would be nice.”
He gave her the dram and then some. She drank it nervously.
“I want to help you,” she said finally, but he could hear what was coming next, and put his hand on hers.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’ve put you in a bad position, I can see that. Just keep me company.”
He filled his glass. “I’m going to have a bit more. Join me?”
“I shouldn’t,” she said, so predictably that he could have mouthed the words along with her.
As predictably, she took the drink.
“I must seem very stupid to you,” she said.
“That’s not true,” he said. “You speak intelligently, you’re thoughtful, you don’t make important decisions without thinking them through. If I had met you at a ball in the Imperial City, I would have imagined you the educated daughter of Skyrim nobility.”
“Rather than a maid,” she said bluntly.
“Listen-my father was once just a soldier with ambition. Now he’s Emperor. He fought for everything he ever got, and I was born with it. Who should be admired the most?”
Unbelievably, as he said this, something seemed to shift in his chest, and his face became warm.
“What’s wrong?” Irinja asked. “Are you-are you crying?”
Attrebus realized a few tears were indeed trickling down his cheek.
He laughed. “Have you ever said something because it seemed like the right thing to say and then realized it was true?”
“I guess.”
“When I saw my father last, I said terrible things to him. What I’ve never told him is what I just told you.”
“And now you’re afraid you’ll never see him again, never get to tell him.”
Attrebus paused for a moment. The epiphany was that some part of him had always known he was less than his father but refused to admit it. That’s why he’d been so easily convinced of his own greatness, why he had been so blind to all the signs of deception that he should have noticed.
But where her mind had gone was more useful, wasn’t it?
“That’s right,” he said. “He won’t flee when Umbriel arrives. He’ll stand, and he’ll fight, and he’ll die. And he will never know how I really feel.”
“That’s awful,” she said, pouring herself another drink and gulping it down. He took another, too.
She wiped his cheeks, and he took her hand, looked into her eyes, let her know that he was going to kiss her, and then did it. She tilted her head back, eyes closed.
“I want to help you,” she said when their lips parted.
“I’m not asking you to,” he said, and kissed her again.
This time she kissed back, hard, with lots of enthusiasm and not much technique.
And he felt guilty, which was absurd. He kept seeing the little image of Annaig’s face.
But that was all he had seen, wasn’t it? Below the neck, she might be hideous.
And now he felt even guiltier, for such a horrible thought.
He pushed Irinja back, gently. “I can’t,” he said, and sighed.
“I’m not asking you for anything,” Irinja said. “I’m not wanting you to marry me or take me away from here or-I just want to be part of your adventure. A part of something important.”
He noticed she was shuddering. “May I have another drink, please?”
He gave it to her, and poured himself a large one.
“It’s his son,” she said softly. “Lord Sathil’s son, Elhul.”
“What about him?”
“Lord Sathil sent him down to Morrowind, to the ruins of Vivec City. Sent him after that sword, Umbra. But when Elhul picked it up, he went mad and started killing his guards. They had to bind him in chains. They took the sword away from him, and he seemed to get better, but then he found it. He killed his mother, Lady Sathil. He killed his two brothers and half of the guards before they dragged him down again. And then they couldn’t make him let go of it.”
“What then? What happened?”
“Lord Sathil prepared him chambers, deep in the stone. That’s where he is now, with the sword he can’t let go of. He’s been there for eight years.”
She wrung her hands. “Elhul was so sweet,” she said. “He used to play with me, pretend to be my knight, my defender. But when he had the sword, he almost killed me. His eyes-he wasn’t there. Nothing was there.”
“And you know where this place is? How to get there?”
She nodded, then threw her arms around his neck and began kissing him again. His head was starting to swirl, and he realized that he’d really had too much to drink, but he didn’t care about that. The kisses felt good, and why shouldn’t they? He had promised Annaig a lot, but nothing to do with this…
Then the world spun, and he was on his back on clean bedding, and flesh was meeting flesh, and for the first time in a long while he gave up worrying, thinking, analyzing, and just was.
TEN
Annaig was acutely aware of Lord Rhel watching her as she studied Glim’s corpse, but she couldn’t control the burn of tears in her eyes. They seemed to come from someplace in the middle of her, a place where everything had been seared out. Soon she would be nothing but skin, and fall in a pile on the floor.
“I’m sorry, Glim,” she said in their private cant.
“Umbriel is pleased,” Rhel said.
“What’s going to happen to him?” she asked softly.
“First he’ll be shown to the skraws, so they know he’s dead. He’ll be cut in pieces, and each of the skraw dormitories will get one, to remind them.”
“That’s barbaric,” she said.
“I don’t know what that means,” Rhel said. “But you’ve done well for yourself. You should be proud.”
“That will take me a bit of time,” Annaig replied.
“Umbriel told me you might show grief. He said you were not to be punished for it, that it would come to you naturally. He also said that it will pass.”