“Oh, well, I can’t dispute that logic,” he said.
There was a splintering sound, and daylight and the edge of an ax appeared. Mazgar rested Sister, point down, and took long, deep breaths, watching as the door disintegrated and the leering, rotting faces of the enemy appeared.
“Stand back a bit,” Brennus said as the first of them came through.
“You save your strength,” she snapped, but it was too late. A sheet of white fire erupted from the earth a few feet on the other side of the door. She saw at least three of the things more or less disintegrated immediately. Half of one fell into the house, but it didn’t move again.
She glared at Brennus, but he was sitting against the wall, eyes closed, face pallid.
“All yours now,” he said.
So she waited until the eldritch flame began to subside and then placed herself in the frame of the door so Sister could swing freely outside.
But when the spell dissipated, she saw there weren’t any wormies left standing. She found herself regarding instead about twenty men in heavy armor, most astride barded horses. Two were dismounted, making certain the wormies weren’t going to get up. When they saw her, one of them doffed his helmet, revealing a dark Dunmer face.
“I’m glad we got here in time,” he said. “We spied them chasing you from the hilltop a while back, but we had a lot of ground to cross.” He bowed his head a little. “I’m Ilver Indarys, and these are the Knights of the Thorn.”
“Mazgar gra Yagash,” she said, “Imperial scouts.”
“You were at Cheydinhal? You can tell us what happened? We were dealing with some of these things in the South-had no idea a whole army of them was coming down on the city. We found it empty.”
“Most evacuated,” she told him. “We held them back long enough to give the refugees a head start, and that’s when we got cut off.”
“Thanks Azura,” he murmured. “That’s good to know. They’re on the Blue Road, then? Ahead of that monstrous thing?”
“Yes, so far as I know,” she replied.
“We need to join them, then,” he said. “We have extra mounts, if you would like to ride with us.”
“I would love a horse,” Brennus said from behind her.
“Knowing you, you probably would,” Mazgar said. “Would you read it poetry first?”
“Whatever it wants to hear,” he replied.
“I was implying-” she began.
“Right,” he said. “I got it. Can we go now?”
THIRTEEN
When the stonework of the castle gave way to living rock, Irinja stopped.
“It’s farther down there,” she said. “There’s a gate, with a lock. I don’t have the key. And I… I won’t go any farther.”
“Why not?” Sul asked suspiciously.
“I don’t want to see him. Or hear him,” she replied. “They say he wails and curses.”
“Who comes down here?” Attrebus asked.
“No one,” she replied.
“Someone has to feed him.”
She shook her head. “He quit eating after the first year. We kept bringing him food for another year more, but it always went untouched.”
“And after he hadn’t eaten for a year-he was still wailing and cursing?”
“Yes.”
“Thanks, Irinja,” Attrebus said. “This will be far enough.”
Her face seemed to darken in the light of the lantern and she looked down. Sul rolled his eyes and stepped a bit away.
When they had a bit of privacy, Attrebus gave her a little kiss. “I hope you’re not sorry about last night,” he said.
“I’m not,” she replied. “It was nice. I just don’t want you to think ill of me.”
“I couldn’t do that, Irinja.”
“I know you’re a prince. I know I was just a dalliance, and I never expected more. But I don’t want you to think I’m like this all the time. That I’m a bad person.”
“I think you’re an excellent person,” he said. “Now-are we straight on that?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Just be careful. I don’t want you to get into trouble over this.”
She shrugged, then kissed him lightly on the lips. “Goodbye,” she said, then turned and quickly retreated back up the stairs she had just led them down.
“That wasn’t wise, letting her go,” Sul said.
“Well, I don’t make a habit of punishing people for helping me,” Attrebus replied. “Anyway, it’s done.”
“It certainly is,” Sul said.
“Look, we know where the sword is, at least. You can thank me for that.”
“I suppose I could thank parts of you, anyway,” Sul replied. “Your brain not among them. Never mind-let’s go.”
The passage was roughly hewn, and continued down into the bedrock the castle stood upon for another sixty feet or so, then opened into what appeared to be a natural cavern. The gate Irinja had mentioned was there, but when Attrebus pushed experimentally on it, it swung open.
He drew his sword and looked around, but on his side of the gate there was no place to hide.
“I don’t like this,” Sul said.
“Why? I don’t hear any wailing or cursing, do you? He’s dead. He’s been dead for years. Probably whoever tried to feed him last didn’t bother to lock the gate.”
“I still don’t like it,” Sul said. “You stay here. I’ll go and find the sword.”
“If he really killed all those people-”
“Weren’t you just arguing he’s dead?” Sul snapped.
“I was, but you don’t believe it.”
“Just stay here and watch the gate.”
“Fine. But if you need help-”
“Right,” Sul said, waving him off. “I’ll call if I need you.”
Attrebus watched him stride off into the darkness, until all he could see was the lamp he carried, growing smaller. Then Sul must have passed behind something.
He rubbed his head. The hangover wasn’t as bad as it could have been, and for that he was grateful. Irinja’s attitude about their little tumble together was fortunate, because now that he was sober, he couldn’t shake the nearly unfamiliar feeling that he had done something wrong. He’d been with a lot of women, and never had any sense of guilt. That had changed now, and he knew that against all reason, he felt some sort of loyalty to Annaig, a woman he had never seen in the flesh, much less been with. He was going to have to sort this out, because he didn’t like feeling guilty. But he understood that it couldn’t happen until they were actually together, face-to-face. As it was, the relationship was too fantastical.
His ruminations were interrupted by the poke of something sharp in his back.
He leapt forward-away from the pressure-and spun, drawing his sword, Flashing.
The gate slammed in his face. On the other side stood Nirai Sathil. She smiled.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“I should rather ask what you are doing, sneaking around down here,” she replied, wagging her finger at him.
“We were just exploring the castle,” Attrebus said, “and we got a bit lost.”
“A bit,” Nirai replied sarcastically.
“Look, I can explain,” Attrebus said. “I’m-”
“Attrebus Mede,” she interrupted. “You’ve come here looking for the sword, Umbra, and you seduced-or think you seduced-our dear little Irinja to find out where it is.”
“Irinja isn’t to blame,” Attrebus began, then stopped. “ ‘Think’ I seduced?”
“I sent her to you, of course,” Nirai said. “After she told me what you wanted.”
Attrebus closed his eyes, glad that Sul was out of earshot.
“So you know what I want,” he said. “What do you want? Your father spoke to Sul yesterday, and he apparently didn’t know who I was.”
“That’s because he doesn’t know,” Nirai said. “He doesn’t know about this either. He’s still protecting Elhul. After what he did! And he’s determined not to let any servant of Clavicus Vile take the weapon.”
“Why?”
“My father made certain pacts with Vile, and in exchange the prince asked him to find a certain sword in Morrowind. What Vile didn’t tell my father was what would happen when someone picked the sword up. The rest I think you know.”