Chapter 70: The Betrayed
It was your typical Nordic ruin, absolutely full of draugr ready to catch out the unwary. I was certainly used to dealing with them while Mercer impressed me with the skill he showed with a pair of short-swords. If I ever ended up in battle with him, I'd certainly show him plenty of respect.
As we wandered forward, there was no missing the respect he had for Karliah, despite the fact his tone dripped with hatred at the same time. I figured many of his statements may have been for my benefit, though I'm sure I proved myself as we dealt with the endless draugr. He thought of me as nothing but a thief, so may have wondered at the back of his mind how I was so skilled with a sword and shield. 'He may find out how and why one day.'
Karliah obviously knew we were on her scent as she'd reset most of the traps you would find in one of these ruins. Mercer's condescending attitude towards me stated to get on my nerves within five minutes. I had to remember that he thought I was some dumb thief, certainly someone who'd never traversed one of these ruins before. But there was using common sense and then being a complete idiot. I'd never given him the impression of being an idiot, so in the end I just thought he liked the sound of his own voice.
In the end, we made relatively short work of any draugr we came across, both of us far too experienced to be caught unawares or be overwhelmed by the creatures. That's not to say we were not cautious. We took our time, Mercer constantly talking to himself about who Karliah was, what she was capable of and what he had planned of her when he finally caught up with her.
We finally made it one of the puzzle doors I knew required a claw. I still had a couple of claws back home on the mantelpiece. I thought they were practically worthless having used them to discover whatever was behind the door that I'd opened. Considering I was with an experienced thief, though, I figured there was a small chance the door may still be possible to open.
Of course, Mercer said it was all very simple if you knew what to do. It took him a couple of minutes and some delicate hand work but there was soon a couple of audible clicks and the door slowly lowered. The room was darker than the passageway we'd just walked down, taking a moment for our eyes to adjust before we moved forward. The room appeared empty, a set of steps ahead leading to a door. Mercer stated he was adamant Karliah was near.
Before I could take another step, I felt something slam into my chest. I looked down to see an arrow sticking out of me. 'I thought my armour was supposed to stop those things.' My body immediately started to feel numb, my sword falling from my hand as I fell backwards, unable to move any part of my body. Mercer barely gave me a backwards glance as someone appeared out of thin air at the top of the steps. My vision was starting to fade but she didn't look like a Nord at the very least.
"Do you honestly think your arrow will reach me before my blade finds your heart, Karliah?" Mercer taunted.
She didn't move, arrow nocked, bow aimed at Mercer, her eyes only for him. "Give me a reason to try."
"You're a clever girl. Buying Goldenglow Estate and funding Honningbrew Meadery was inspired."
"'To ensure an enemy's defeat, you must first undermine his allies.' It was the first lesson Gallus taught us."
"You always were a quick study."
"Not quick enough, otherwise Gallus would still be alive."
'That doesn't sound like someone who murdered Gallus. If I didn't know any better, she sounds… heartbroken.'
Mercer's next words confirmed my worst suspicions. "Gallus had his wealth and he had you. All he had to do was look the other way."
'Bastard!'
I tried to move my arm but neither my left or right one would co-operate. I put all my willpower into just wiggling my fingers but I couldn't even feel them. All I could see was the arrow sticking out of my chest. "Did you forget the oath we took as Nightingales? Did you expect him to simply ignore your methods?" Karliah wondered.
'Nightingales? What are they?'
Mercer stepped forward. "Enough of this mindless banter! Come, Karliah! It's time for you and Gallus to become reunited!"
Karliah immediately disappeared. I tried to follow her with my eyes but my vision continued to darken. I didn't know if I was on the verge of passing out or dying. Not being able to feel anything, I just didn't know. "I'm no fool, Mercer. Crossing blades with you would be a death sentence. But I can promise the next time we meet, it will be your undoing."
I can only assume she somehow left the room as there was no more from her. Instead, Mercer turned back towards me, a smirk on his face. I didn't even bother pleading, instead I put everything I thought into my glance. "You're a bastard, you know that."
"How interesting. It appears Gallus's history has repeated itself."
"You're a coward. I'm going to take pleasure in gutting you in the end."
He laughed. "And how are you going to do that?" he asked, kicking away my sword, a pointless gesture considering I couldn't even move. "I will have to give Karliah my thanks for providing me with the means of ridding you. I know you're dangerous to myself and my position. I don't know what anyone else thinks back at the Guild but I smell trouble when it's near, and you, my friend, are nothing but trouble."
"You'll pay in the end, Mercer. People like you always do. You and that bitch you're allied with."
His eyes narrowed. "It's a good thing this tomb becomes your resting place, Henrik, otherwise I'd have her deal with you instead."
I had nothing left to lose. "My name is Ragnar Dragonborn, Mercer Frey. Thane of Whiterun. The Last Dragonborn. And I'll be coming for you, I promise you that. Now do whatever it is you need to do. I'm getting cold lying here."
He said nothing in response to what I said. I didn't feel the sword enter as he thrust forward, my body completely devoid of feeling. Because I couldn't feel the sword, I didn't feel any pain. But I know blood would have flown from my body and it wasn't long until I passed out, the last thing I heard the footsteps of Mercer as he walked away, believing I was dead.
To be honest, I thought I was a goner as well.
*****
'It's cold. So very cold. I don't remember Sovngarde being this cold.'
I thought I was dead as I opened my eyes, stars twinkling in the distance while one of the moons hovered in the sky. It took a few seconds for my vision to return and I realised, after glancing left and right, that I was lying on a snowbound landscape.
'Definitely not Sovngarde. Where am I?'
I moved my arms and was happy to have the feeling return, feeling down my body, noticing my armour had been removed. I noticed the arrow that had been sticking out of me had also disappeared, feeling that the wound had been healed, as had the wound from Mercer's thrust.
I managed to get myself into a sitting position, shaking my head of the last cobwebs as my vision continued to restore itself. There was a small campfire in front of me, providing at least a little warmth, thankful for that as night-time had descended between the time we'd entered the Sanctum to now. I had little idea how long I'd actually been out for. It didn't feel like for just a few hours.
I looked to my right to see a Dunmer sitting cross-legged, looking into the fire before glancing in my direction. "Ah, good to see that you're awake. Take it easy for now as you've been out for some time now. How are you feeling?"
"I feel fine despite the fact you shot me."
"No, I saved your life. My arrow was tipped with a unique paralytic poison."
"No wonder I stopped feeling everything."
"Exactly. It slowed your heart and kept you from bleeding out when Mercer tried to finish the job. Had I intended to kill you, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
I sat up and crossed my legs, warming my hands by the fire. "So why did you choose to save me?"
"My original intention was to use that arrow on Mercer, but I never had a clear shot. I made a split-second decision to get you out of the way and it prevented your death."
"You should have shot him instead," I stated bitterly, "I'm going to kill him next time I lay my eyes on him."
"I promise you, the thought crossed my mind but, as I said, he's an expert at his craft. The poison on that arrow took me a year to perfect; I only had enough for a single shot. All I had hoped was to capture Mercer alive."
"Alive? You should have taken his bloody head!"
"Mercer must be brought before the Guild to answer for what he's done. He needs to pay for Gallus' murder."
"I still don't know why you didn't just put an arrow through him and be done with it."
"Mercer lied to the Guild, branded me a murderer and slandered my name across his network of contacts. For twenty-five years I've been on the run, never sleeping in the same place twice and carefully covering my tracks. Mercer doesn't need to die. He doesn't deserve the blessed relief that death will give him. He needs to feel the cold sting of fate as his life crumbles in front of him and he's hunted by the Guild. Only then will he finally be given death."
"You want justice?" She nodded. I shrugged. "Understandable, I guess. Maybe I'll just take an arm or something." I scratched my head. "Sorry for ruining your plan."
"No apology is necessary. You see, my purpose in using Snow Veil Sanctum to ambush Mercer wasn't simply for irony's sake. Before both of you arrived, I recovered a journal from Gallus' remains. I suspect the information I need about what Mercer was doing, and had done, is written inside."
"What does the journal say? Anything incriminating?"
"I wish I knew. The journal is written in some sort of language I've never seen before."
"Is it written in some sort of code?"
"I don't think so."
"So it needs translation? Do you know anyone who could help?"
She was silent for a couple of minutes, deep in thought. Then she clicked her fingers, the smallest of smiles. "Enthir! He's an old friend at the College of Winterhold. He's the only outsider Gallus ever trusted with the knowledge of his Nightingale identity." 'College? This could start getting awkward for me.'
"What's a Nightingale? Apparently Gallus used to call you his 'Little Nightingale' and I've heard other mentions of it."
She nearly blushed when I mentioned Gallus' name for her. "There were three of us: Myself, Gallus and Mercer. We were an anonymous splinter cell of the Thieves Guild in Riften. Perhaps I'll tell you more about it later."
"Okay."
"What's your name?"
I thought she would have heard my conversation with Mercer. I guess not. "Henrik."
She learned across, offering her hand. "As you've no doubt already figured out, I'm Karliah. Thanks for listening."
I accepted her hand. "No problem. I've had my suspicions about Mercer since the first time I spoke with him. Something always rubbed me the wrong way. I'm glad those suspicions have been confirmed."
She stared into the fire. "Mercer must pay for everything he's done. Not just to me. But to Gallus too."
"I know this is obvious personal business, considering what Mercer has done to you, but it sounds even more so regarding Gallus. You were… close?"
She blushed again. "Figured it would be that obvious the way I do speak about him. He was a scholar, a master thief and a natural leader. I owe everything to him. He once said he felt comfortable around me; able to let his guard down. I can't help but think that I'm responsible for what happened to him."
"Don't think like that. It's a slippery slope. We are both now very aware of what Mercer is capable of. Murder and deception are just two of his more nefarious skills the man has. Next time, we'll have to be more vigilant."
"Agreed."
"How long have I been out?"
"A couple of hours. Sunrise is in a few hours. If you want to get some more sleep, by all means. Mercer is long gone."
"Where do you think he's gone?"
"Back to Riften, likely to report that you were killed on the job but I somehow managed to escape, if he even shared his plans with anyone else. But there's also a chance that my reappearance may have spooked him. If he feels that the walls are starting to close in, I have no doubt he'll go on the run."
I still felt weak so stated I'd get at least a couple more hours sleep. I was shaken awake as the sun was cresting the horizon, Karliah stating that she wanted to start making preparations for her return to Riften. She wasn't going to actually enter the city but wanted to keep watch for any sign of Mercer. I assembled myself in my armour, Karliah mentioning she thought the armour was exquisite and unlike anything that she'd seen, before I covered it in my jacket.
"Where did you ever get such armour?"
"An old friend. In our line of work, it pays to be careful. It's light but as strong as any armour I know. Surprised your arrow got through it, to be honest."
"You didn't see the arrowhead that got through. Not the usual junk you get from most fletchers. Like the poison, I've spent a long time perfecting everything."
"I guess I should thank you for missing my heart."
"I'm an expert marksman. If I'd wanted to hit your heart, I would have." She looked at the body of her horse. "I guess I have a long walk ahead of me unless I find a horse to steal. Where is yours?"
"Hopefully still tied up outside the inn in Winterhold, unless Mercer recognised it was mine and either killed or released it."
I looked ahead into the distance towards the path and Winterhold. "Enthir is an old fence for the Guild. I would suggest checking the inn first as he used to work out of the basement. He generally keeps his work at the College and his work for the Guild entirely separate."
Agreeing to meet outside Riften when I had a translation for the journal, she walked south as I headed north towards Winterhold, the journal safely ensconced in my pack. I was surprised to feel no residual pain from the two wounds I had on my chest, though figured I'd have to explain to my wife why I had two new scars. I just figured they were part of the ever expanding collection. I doubt she'd see the funny side but would have happy to see me walk through the front door at least.
Thankfully my horse was still tied up outside the inn, appearing to have been fed and watered while I was away. 'The innkeeper no doubt recognises it by now.' Wandering inside, I asked Dagur if Enthir was in residence, the innkeeper replying that he was downstairs.
Enthir was occupied with a book as I approached the table, looking up when I cleared my throat. "What do you want?" he asked.
"I'm here on behalf of a mutual acquaintance."
He looked up and down at my attire and slowly closed the book. "Karliah? She's alive?" he asked, virtually a whisper. I nodded. "And if you're here on her behalf, that can only mean that she's finally found it, after all these years." I opened my pack and handed him the journal. "This is in far better condition than I could have ever imagined. The bitter cold must have helped." He started flicking through the pages and it wasn't long before he started to chuckle. "I should have known. I really should have known. It's the only reason why you'd bring it to me."
"What do you mean?"
"You obviously never met the man, but this is just like something that Gallus would do. A dear friend, sadly departed, but always too clever for his own good. He's written all of the text in the Falmer language."
"The Falmer language? Why would they have a language? They're blind."
"You're familiar with the Falmer?"
"I've had my fair share of run-ins with them. But, yes, I'm familiar with them and their story. So you mean it's written in the language of the Snow Elves?" He nodded. "How did Gallus know their language?"
"He was a surprisingly astute pupil of academia. If he wasn't a thief, there's no doubt he could have made a living at the College or some other institution of learning."
"You obviously knew him well. Why become a thief?"
"Well, for the thrill, of course. He was quite clear that he felt more in his element climbing through a window than hunched over a dusty tome."
"Hmmm. I can see what he meant, I guess. Okay, why the Falmer language? Apart from the fact very few probably know or are capable of reading the language, he must have known if something happened to him that no-one would be able to read it."
"I'm fairly certain he was planning some sort of a heist that involved a deep understanding of the Falmer language. Sadly, we never had the opportunity to speak about the details."
"I take it you can't read it?"
"No, I recognise the language but I can't read a word of it."
"Who can?"
"I can think of only one person in all of Skyrim who can and, ironically, the very same person I told Gallus to visit all those years ago when he wanted to learn it. You'll want to find a wizard by the name of Calcelmo. He's obsessed with the Falmer and has been working in Understone Keep for at least the past couple of decades. As far as I know, he's still working there to this day."
"How helpful will he prove to be?"
"Well…" Enthir shrugged. "To be honest, Calcelmo is stubborn as a mule. Be careful when you speak to him. Even at your persuasive best, it's likely he'll prove to be completely uncooperative."
"Thanks, Enthir. I'll be back as soon as I can."
Back outside, I mounted my horse and had a decision to make. I could head back to Riften and explain everything that had occurred since I'd left, though there was a chance Mercer had returned and shared my identity. In my gut, I knew he'd already gone on the run, feeling the walls closing in on him. In the end, though, I simply headed straight for Markarth. It was going to be a long ride from north-east to south-west Skyrim and didn't want to divert south to Riften to then cross to Markarth.
I silently thanked myself for packing my camping equipment, having left it tethered to my horse, as the weather turned awful during my journey across Skyrim. I first damn near froze in a blizzard not long after leaving Winterhold, my speed dropping to little more than a crawl as neither my horse or myself could see anything. Once we hit sea level, or close enough to it, the snow turned to torrential rain. Already feeling cold, I could add soaking wet to the list of crap feelings I was currently experiencing. Once light started to fade, I stopped and camped under a few trees, hoping they would provide at least a little shelter from the rain and subsequently enjoyed an awful night's sleep.
Day two of my journey started with mist and cold but it was dry, the sun soon burning away the mist and, although it was by no means warm, it was certainly a far more enjoyable experience than the previous day. I'll admit I was feeling rather lonesome as I was used to nearly always having someone along as a travelling companion, whether it was Serana, who I enjoyed every second with, or Lydia, who I enjoyed good banter with all the time, or the Companions, where we would regale each other with stories even more exaggerated than the last.
With plenty of time to think, I began to assess what I'd learned since joining the Guild. What I'd come to realise is that, for becoming a thief, I actually hadn't done much of what could be called thievery, stealing or burglary. Come to think of it, most of what I'd been up to differed little to what I normally did, which was fighting bandits and mercenaries while finding myself in all manner of conspiracies and events completely outside of my control. But in regards to why I was actually with the Guild, I still hadn't found any evidence I could take to the General as proof of their crimes.
After stabling my horse, I stayed at the Silverblood Inn, appearing to be unrecognised by the locals, particularly after all the events I'd been involved in last time I was in the city. I guess the well-trimmed beard and hair helped as I chatted with the locals, enquiring about any recent events but, from what I was told, Markarth was once again peaceful now that the Silverblood family had been dealt with. Next morning, I headed to Understone Keep, keeping clear of the Jarl and his steward, being pointed in the right direction by one of the guards when asking where I could find Calcelmo. I found the elderly wizard hunched over a book, clearing my throat to gain his attention. He turned around, a long grey beard and wrinkled face all I could see as the rest of his body was covered in black but dusty robes. Before I could say a word, he near threw up his hands in frustration.
"What are you doing here? The excavation site is closed. I don't need any more workers or guards."
"Excavation site? I'm no guard and not here to work for you."
He sighed. "Why do you people always bother me when I'm trying to finish my research?"
"I've been sent to find you. If you'd let me explain…"
I couldn't get another word out. "You idiot! Do you even know who I am? The most recognized scholar on the Dwemer in all of Tamriel, and you people keep bothering me!" I took a step forward without thinking and the old man shrank back. Realising what I'd done, I raised a hand in apology as he started to stutter an apology of his own. "I'm sorry, I got too excited. I'm in the middle of some very...stressful work, and I shouldn't have yelled. How can I help you?"
Figuring I should get on his good side, I asked a different question to what I would have started out with. "What excavation site?"
"You've not heard of Nchuan-Zel?" I shook my head. "You've never heard of the ruins below Markarth?"
"I'm not a local. You asked if I was a guard. Why do you need guards for an excavation site?"
"To protect my research, for one. There are more cutthroat scholars out there who would steal my findings if they got the chance. And the excavations into Nchuand-Zel are dangerous. Dwemer machines and traps still function even after thousands of years."
"I've been in other Dwemer ruins before so I know what you mean. But I've never heard of 'cutthroat scholars'. Anyway, that's not why I'm here."
"Are you here to help in regards to Nimhe perhaps?" he asked hopefully.
"Nimhe?"
"There's a giant spider in Nchuand-Zel. My workers call her 'Nimhe,' the poisoned one. If you deal with Nimhe, I'll let you into both the excavation site and my Dwemer Museum. What do you say?"
"Museum? Do you have anything about the Falmer in your museum?"
His eyes narrowed. "Why are you interested in the Falmer?"
"I've been told you're an expert."
He scoffed. "I'm not just an expert, I know more about the Falmer than anyone else in all of Tamriel. I am at this very moment on the cusp of completing my magnum opus on the subject. It will revolutionise the way we understand those ancient beings."
I just shrugged. "What else do we need to know except they were once Snow Elves blinded on purpose by the Dwemer, with the Falmer then overthrowing the Dwemer and now they infest plenty of ruins across Skyrim."
"Those are the basics, yes. My magnum opus will deal with their culture and society, their language, their entire history as a species."
"Could I take a look?"
"What? No! Are you mad?"
"What if I kill this spider for you?"
"I can give you a key to my museum but that's it."
"Good enough, I guess." 'I'll just have to figure out something from there.'
I hated spiders. There wasn't much out there I was afraid of but spiders? Hated them. Hated hearing them. Hated seeing them. Hated everything about them. Creepy, ugly, poison spitting, eight legged freaks. As far as I was concerned, the only good spider was a dead one. And now I was off to fight one by myself.
The excavation site had the appearance of other Dwarven ruins I'd explored though there was evidence that Calcelmo and whoever he hired had spent a lot of time digging. In the near silence, the only sounds being my own heavy breathing, I could hear the movement of spiders ahead. And I suddenly wished that I had a bow. The thought following that was I knew magic, at least a little bit, and that spiders hated fire. I'd found flames alone could usually kill them without me having to swing my sword once.
I handled the pair of small spiders I found within the first part of the excavation site with relative ease. I'd fought examples of them before so knew what to expect. I found a passageway carved into the stone and, slightly stooping, followed it on, eventually exiting to see a Dwarven door ahead, covered in thick layer of webs. Cautiously I walked forward, wondering where this Nimhe was.
Then I looked up and, I swear, almost soiled myself.
Diving out of the way, Nimhe barely missed my head as it descended from its hiding spot in the roof. I got to my feet and summoned fire immediately, the spider responding by spitting its poison, causing me to roll out of the way again. I'll admit I was terrified at the sheer size of the thing. I was tall and the spider towered over myself and the width of the creature beggared belief.
I knew I had to kill this thing and kill it quickly. The one thing I needed to do was keep moving and not find myself between it and a wall. If that happened, I was dead. I summoned flames to keep it back, the spider screeching as I simply aimed for its head. I quickly looked around for an advantage and, while moving backwards, not taking my eyes off the spider, I manoeuvred up the small set of steps, giving me the height advantage.
I had a crazy but stupid idea brewing.
I kept the flames going until I had the spider in the position I wanted. Then, with flames still flying, I took a deep breath and sprinted towards the ledge, leaping through the air, flicking off the flames as the spider appeared below me as I brought my sword down in both hands, landing on its back and stabbing through. The spider screeched as I held onto my sword, still lodged in its body, as I summoned flames again and aimed straight for its head. It was like riding an angry elk as it did everything possible to escape my sword and flames but it wasn't long before it collapsed to the ground. I took my sword and stabbed again, right through its head, twisting the sword for good measure.
I rolled off the spider and staggered away, leaning against the wall, feeling an overwhelming urge to vomit and cry. Instead, after taking a couple of deep breaths, I started to laugh. "I can't believe that worked!" I exclaimed to no-one.
Climbing the set of steps again, I'd noticed something out of the corner of my eye, burning away the webs to discover a dead body. Dressed in Legion armour, it was clear he'd been poisoned by Nimhe. I searched the body and discovered a journal. 'Wonder if Calcelmo knows who this is?'
Sheathing my sword, I wandered back through the excavation site, still shaking slightly from the adrenaline flowing through my veins. Calcelmo hadn't moved though at least he heard me approach this time, looking up from his book. "Nimhe is dead?"
"It is."
"You have my gratitude. That spider had been interfering with my excavations for months."
"I also found this journal," I stated, handing it over.
He flicked through the pages. "Hmmm. Yes, I remember Staubin. A brave scholar, but not very wise."
"I found the journal on a body, most likely killed by Nimhe."
"To be honest, I doubt you'd find Staubin or any of his group alive now. They've been gone a long time."
"Why hasn't anyone been to look for them?"
"Nimhe for starters. And the guards are not interested in searching a Dwarven ruin for a few scholars who were warned about going on a fool's errand. Though…"
He looked at me with a curious glance. "You mentioned before about your interest in the Falmer. What exactly are you interested in?"
I figured I had to be honest. "I have a journal written by someone who has used the Falmer language as a code. All I need is something that will help me decipher it."
He remained silent, deep in thought and I crossed my fingers that perhaps he would, this time, prove co-operative. He then met my eyes again, curious. "Who are you?"
"My name is Ragnar Dragonborn."
Eyebrows were now raised in surprised. "Dragonborn? You're the… Of course you are. How else could you have defeated Nimhe by yourself. And you have a journal written in the Falmer language?"
"It's a long and complicated story but, yes, that's about the size of it."
"I thought the Dragon Crisis was over?"
"This is another thing I'm trying to solve. It's quite important, which is why I was pointed in your direction."
"And it's only to try and decipher a journal?"
I put a hand over my heart. "I can honestly say I have no interest in stealing any of your work."
He nodded to himself. "I'm sure we can come to an agreement. If you can find out what happened to Staubin and his group, I'll help you regarding the Falmer language. How does that sound?"
I figured that was the best deal I was going to get from him. Refusing would mean I'd have to think of something else. And who knew what I would find in the Dwarven ruin. Maybe something that could help me? The possibilities were endless. They usually were.
"Very well, Calcelmo. You have yourself a deal."
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