III

The Khajiit guard struggled furiously but could not free himself from the arm around his neck that prevented him from screaming. Whoever his opponent was, he possessed superhuman strength. A dagger stuck in the base of his back and he stopped struggling. Death had taken him.

The guard's lifeless body fell limply into the arms of Rilos, who dragged him into the nearest bush. Dressed in a black leather outfit, the Dunmer assassin was on full alert as he scanned the area. No one had seen or heard him. He put his daggers back at his belt before slipping into the shadows of the garden.

If the khajiits were endowed with heightened senses, they were nothing compared to those of the dark elf at that very moment. The canis root had powerful alchemical properties and, when used properly, could heighten the senses of those who consumed it. He could hear the slightest sound of footsteps and the slightest breathing of the patrolling sentries.

Rilos pressed himself against a wall to blend into the darkness. The next moment, two guards passed him without even suspecting his presence. He immediately resumed his route, quieter than a shadow.

The gardens of the royal palace were a maze of bushes and trimmed hedges, and small marble gutters carried water from the great aqueduct of Rimmen. The sound of the water was soothing and many visitors enjoyed walking and relaxing in this natural wonder lost in the middle of the desert. But Rilos was not there to relax... far from it.

He moved from one shadow to another with speed to get closer to his goal. The dunmer had memorized the layout of the garden and the buildings with the help of an old map and stopped at the foot of a specific wall. Rilos looked up at the balcony and smiled under his hood.

He had found what he was looking for.

* * * * *

Shazira was laying on her bed, clutching a pillow between her arms while with her other hand she absentmindedly played with the budgies in their cage. The little birds chirped and fluttered as she ran her fingers through the bars to tease them. The khajiit sighed heavily as she lay back on the sheets.

Her father had given her quite a dressing down after her little escapade today. With her ears low, she listened to him scold her without answering. It always ended the same way when she decided to run away, even if only for a few hours. She didn't understand why her father got so upset every time. And that only made her angrier.

The princess threw the pillow across the room in a rage before scratching furiously at the sheets of the bed. Why was she kept locked up like this?! Day after day, she just stayed in her room and never went out or saw the outside world! Why?! She finally calmed down and curled up on her now ruined bed. She was sobbing and hugging her knees when there was a knock on her bedroom door.

- "Go away! I don't want to see anyone!" she cried between sobs.

- "Not even your big brother?" a familiar voice replied.

The young khajiit quickly wiped her tears as Sharr'Ri entered the room to sit beside her on the bed.

- "Look at you... you've turned your room upside down," he observed with a smile. "Those pillows and sheets are awfully expensive, you know?"

- "Why is he doing this?" she said in a small voice. "Why do I have to stay locked up every day?"

- "Shazi... it's for your own good."

- "For my own good?! I don't see how staying in here, day after day, is good for me!" the princess snapped. "Why can't I go out whenever I want, like you?"

- "Father already explained it to you," her brother said in a soft voice to calm her down. "You're a fragile little kitten."

- "Bullshit! I'm just like every other khajiit of my age!" Her look was angry. "I bet Father keeps me locked up because of my eyes...he's ashamed of me."

- "That's ridiculous, Shazi. Your eyes are beautiful, like Jone and Jode blessed them." Sharr'Ri took her sister in her arms. "But you know very well that he cares a lot about you. He wouldn't get himself into such a state if he didn't love you."

- "If he really loved me, he would let me live and breathe," the princess grumbled.

His brother continued to tenderly caress his little sister's head. He was concerned to see her in such a state, even if it wasn't the first time. He finally smiled broadly as he came up with an idea.

- "You know what, little sister?"

- "What?"

- "I'm going to talk to Father about it. I'll try to convince him to let you go out for the harvest festival. It shouldn't be a problem if I go with you."

- "You promise?"

- "I swear." He raised his paw in a solemn gesture.

- "Thank you!" She hugged him, smiling. "You really are the best big brother ever!"

- "Tell me something I don't already know, little Shazi," her brother replied with a laugh.

- "When are you going to tell him?"

- "Tomorrow, I think. Better give him time to cool off a bit after your little escapade of today."

- "I hope he'll let me out this time..."

- "Don't worry. I'll do my best to convince him, but until then..." Sharr'Ri got up from the bed to pick up a stale pillow near the balcony. "We'll have to clean your room a bit. I don't think Father would appreciate seeing you ruin such expensive bedding."

- "Yes, yes...I'll put it away." She balked at agreeing with her brother. "Just don't tell Father about it."

- "Talk about what?" He offered her a knowing smile. "I haven't seen or heard anything. And besides..."

Sharr'Ri had suddenly stood still, as if he had turned into a statue. No sound came from his lips except for slow, labored breathing. His eyes were now painfully wide, their pupils contracted to a tiny point as his fingers tightened on the cushion in his hand until his claws dug in.

Shazira looked at him with concern and was about to ask him what was wrong when he collapsed to the ground. The young khajiit let out a cry of surprise and fear as she noticed the dagger sticking out of her brother's back, deep in his shoulder. But soon her eyes were drawn in horror to the figure crouching on the balcony railing. It was dressed in black and its face was hidden by a scarf. Only its eyes were visible and shone like two burning coals under the hood. They glared at Shazira and she couldn't take her eyes off the second dagger in his hand, the edge of which gleamed in the moonlight.

She shuddered and felt the hairs on her back stand up as the dark figure addressed her.

- "Princess Shazira..." Its voice was a sinister whisper. "Our master is very eager to meet you."

* * * * *

- "How's the kid?", Gunnar asked between two bites of bread, not caring about the impressive number of crumbs he spat out as he spoke.

- "He's on bread and water, a little banged up... but he seems fine," Flavia replied as she sat down at the table. "I'll go get him in the morning."

The former legionnaire, the Nord, and the mage Imril had been moved to one of the guest rooms in the lodge occupied by Lord Razirr'Ri. Khajiit servants had prepared comfortable beds and a warm meal before leaving their guests alone. Gunnar gobbled up most of the food in a disgusting display, clearly unaccustomed to using cutlery. His hands and fingers were already covered in meat juices and his beard was full of crumbs. The Altmer mage was doing his best to ignore the Nord barbarian and his boorish ways. He barely touched the food on the table, just drinking one cup of wine after another. No doubt this helped him to ignore his noisy table neighbor.

- "Don't you think you're being a little hard on him?", Gunnar resumed, "We're not in the legion, either."

- "It's for his own good," Flavia replied, pouring herself a cup of wine. "If he doesn't learn to be careful now, his mercenary career may be short...as may his life."

- "I can only agree with the captain," Imril interjected. "This boy is still young, and youth needs to be tempered. Wisdom comes with age and time."

- "Easy to say for someone who can live for several centuries while keeping his skin as smooth as a virgin's buttocks," the nord grumbled.

The mage pretended not to notice Gunnar's last remark, contenting himself with calmly sipping his wine. Captain Flavia, however, cast a stern look at her subordinate. She had absolutely no desire to see a fight break out under the roof of their host and she refused to let her authority or discipline be questioned.

- "It's pretty cool of that cat lord to offer us food and shelter," Gunnar said, "What did they call him again? A khan? What's that? Some kind of king?

- "Not quite," Flavia corrected him. "The khajiits mostly live in clans or tribes and the khans are their leaders."

- "If we were to make a comparison...", Imril interjected. "The title of khan would be equivalent to jarl[1] in Skyrim."

- "Oh... he's not the first bumpkin to come along, then?"

- "Indeed.", Flavia cut in. "Also, I'd like us to behave ourselves under his roof. The kid caused enough troubles as it is. No need to add to it."

Her single eye glared at Gunnar, and the nord immediately got the message. He even wiped his hands on his clothes for good measure.

- "But it's weird," he began. "For someone so important, I haven't seen many guards within these walls."

- "Did you notice too?" Flavia could see that the nord’s warrior instincts were as sharp as ever. "I understand that most of Lord Razirr'Ri's men are still scattered around town, still looking for his daughter. It will be some time before they return."

- "I see..." The nord sniffed loudly. "If I were an enemy of the cat lord, this is when I would strike."

- "We are within the walls of the royal palace," Imril corrected him dismissively. "He risks nothing within these walls because he is the guest of the Mane of Rimmen. Only a madman would dare to attack him under these conditions."

- "That's not very prudent, though... is it, Captain?"

Flavia was already no longer listening to them. She was staring at the door, her muscles tense under her armor. After the loss of her right eye many years before, her hearing had developed curiously.

- "Captain?" asked Gunnar again, who knew that look well. His hands had already settled on his axes.

- "I hear screams..." she said in a deep voice, frowning.

* * * * *

Rilos leapt to the side to dodge the khajiit guard's sword. His senses, heightened by the canis root, allowed him to react to the slightest movement of his opponents with disconcerting ease. He stuck his dagger in the guard's throat and the khajiit collapsed to the ground with a gurgle.

The Dunmer assassin immediately turned his attention to the figure of the princess running through the corridors of the pavilion. He never expected her to be so agile and fast. She had taken off as soon as she saw him and he had a hard time catching up with her despite the strength and speed the canis root gave him. The young khajiit kept screaming for help, but fortunately for him, there were only a few guards tonight, as expected. The few who tried to intervene were quickly eliminated by his daggers and Rilos immediately resumed his hunt. The dark elf was getting tired of this little game and wanted to bring his catch back to his master as soon as possible.

The Khajiit princess pushed open a door and rushed inside. It was a storeroom where the servants stored the supplies needed to maintain the pavilion. The room was pitch black because the oil lamps were out and only the windows with their pierced wooden shutters let in the moonlight. Shazira immediately hid herself between two wooden boxes to stay put, hoping that her pursuer would not see her in the darkness.

- "That's enough, princess...", said the assassin as he entered the shed. "My master is getting impatient."

He squinted in an attempt to pierce the gloom, for although his senses were momentarily heightened, it took his eyes some time to become accustomed to the darkness. He was aided, however, by his hearing, which allowed him to hear the short, rapid breathing of the young khajiit.

- "I hear you, Princess...there is no need to hide."

The dunmer assassin walked cautiously between the stacked barrels and crates, his gaze scanning every shadowy nook and cranny for his prey. All his senses were focused on this very task. He tried to catch a glimpse of the white sheen of her spoted coat, to hear the frantic beating of her heart, and to smell her fur. She was there... somewhere.

Suddenly, he saw the fleeting reflection of her blue eyes like a cloudless sky.

- "Your eyes betray you, princess," the assassin said, smiling from under his hood.

He had taken a few steps in her direction before suddenly stopping. He ducked just in time to dodge the axe that whistled over his head. Too focused on finding the princess, he hadn't paid attention to the noises coming from the rest of the house. How could he not have heard the pounding of those heavy footsteps and the clanking of those sabatons?

Rilos leapt to the side to avoid a second axe that just missed him. His opponent was not one of the palace's Khajiit guards but a tall man with a long beard. The nord did not give him time to recover from his surprise as he threw himself at him again, swinging his axes. He wielded them with great skill, but the dunmer's enhanced reflexes allowed him to avoid all attacks and he was even able to strike back. His dagger strokes were precise and fast but the Nordic managed to parry all his attacks.

The dark elf dodged a new axe blow and took advantage of an opening in his opponent's guard to strike him with a violent knee blow to the jaw. Gunnar collapsed in the middle of the crates while swearing, half knocked out by this sudden attack. Rilos started to lose patience and he had lost enough time as it was. He rushed towards the young khajiit still hidden between the crates who yelped in pain as she felt his hard hand grab her by the wrist.

- "That's enough, princess! You’re coming with me!"

Shazira tried to struggle by clawing at her captor and the assassin was tempted to knock her out but a searing pain seized him in the shoulder and he let go of his victim. He turned around in a flash to see who had the audacity to hurt him. A straight, proud figure stood in the doorway of the storeroom. It was a woman wearing steel slat armor of the Imperial Legion who held a bow in her hand. Her single eye looked at him coldly as she grabbed a new arrow from the quiver that hung from her belt.

The dunmer had no time for this nonsense and he thought about how he was going to get out of there. The storeroom had only one exit, which was now blocked now that the Nordic had risen. The windows were his last hope of escape.

He tried to grab the Khajiit princess again but she had taken advantage of his surprise to slip between the crates and get out of reach. The plan had failed but he could still escape.

Forgetting the pain in his shoulder, he leapt to the nearest window to break the shutter. He was about to pass through the opening when another arrow pierced his knee and he fell to the ground with a grunt. This woman was definitely an excellent archer despite her one-eye. The dark elf tried to get up, but without success. The pain became more intense with each passing moment and he realized that the effects of the canis root were beginning to wear off. He would not make it.

Rilos had failed in his mission and would not be able to escape. There was only one thing left for him to do...

While grunting in pain, he took out a sealed parchment scroll from his clothes. In a loud voice, he began to recite the arcane formula that would release the spell it contained.

- "He has spell scroll! Get back!" shouted Flavia.

No sooner had the assassin uttered the last syllable than the scroll caught fire in his hand[2]. The next second, his entire body burst into flames and the dunmer screamed a disjointed prayer as the flames consumed him. Eventually he curled up on the ground to die with a long, muffled death rattle.

The servants of the lodge had run at the screams and sounds of fighting. Frightened at first by the sight, they quickly pulled themselves together to begin putting out the flames that were spreading through the storeroom. The khan Raziir'Ri was there, too, his old spear in hand. He was hugging his daughter, fear and worry in his usually serious eyes.

- "What happened," Gunnar asked, "Why did he catch fire? Didn't his spell work?"

- "I think it did," Flavia replied soberly as she looked at the charred and shriveled body. "He didn't want to be taken alive."

This was a common practice among assassins and spies. Now he wouldn't be able to talk, and the mercenary captain thought that was a shame. She was curious to know the reasons for such an attack. Murder or kidnapping? Who was targeted? That was a lot of questions whose answers were now gone.

Flavia was certain, however, that Khan Razirr'Ri knew some of those answers. As he held his daughter close, he looked at the murderer's corpse as if he had seen a ghost.

* * * * *

Lord Razirr'Ri was siting in his chair, deep in thought. Several hours had already passed since the attempted kidnapping and the sun would soon rise. He had spent all that time watching over his daughter, who was now sleeping in his own bed a few feet away. It had taken a long time for the terrified young khajiit to fall asleep. Her son had miraculously survived his injury, but he would be affected for the rest of his life. Both of his children were alive, but he knew that dark days lay ahead.

For more than twenty years, he had dreaded the coming of this day. The daedra's prophecy was coming true... just as she had promised.

As time went on and the years passed, he had thought he could escape it. He had thought it was all a lie. The last words of a dying enemy seeking revenge on his murderer. When his son, Sharr'Ri, was born, he looked into his eyes for any trace of the daedra's curse. His relief was intense when he found nothing wrong with them. He had forgotten about it, regaining confidence and self-assurance over the years. His heart was now light and it was with great happiness that he welcomed the birth of his second child, Princess Shazira.

It was then that he saw her eyes.

Despair and fear had immediately seized him when he discovered his left eye, half blue and half yellow. The two colors, separated by the black pupil of his child, formed two crescent moons facing each other. From the depths of his memory, the last words of the daedra had resurfaced.

"When Jone and Jode will meet in the eyes of your offspring...you will know I have returned."

Lord Razirr'Ri was then despondent, and he had not spoken a word for days, isolating himself from all but his daughter, whom he watched over relentlessly. So he decided to hide her and protect her as much as he could. He left his lands in southern Elsweyr to come and live in the capital as a guest of the Mane of Rimmen, with his daughter, his son and some of his most loyal subjects. And while he kept his daughter locked up and under guard, he sent his agents to the four corners of the kingdom to track down and flush out the agents of the daedric cult... alas, without success.

The years passed without incident, but Razirr had maintained constant vigilance in case the events of the past were to recur. He had not told his children about the affair, and he had silently endured the resentment of his daughter, whom he denied the freedom to go wherever she desired. He didn't care if she hated him, as long as she lived in safety and away from evil. But evil had finally caught up with him and his family.

And he didn't know what to do...

- "My lord. Are you awake?"

The voice snapped Razirr'Ri out of his thoughts as there was a soft knock on the door. In a reflex, he grabbed his spear before regaining his composure as he recognized the voice.

- "Come in, Tasarr'Do."

The door opened and a khajiit entered the room. He was a tall, middle-aged cathay-raht[3] with brown fur and piercing yellow eyes. He wore weapons and armor, and his figure indicated that he was a warrior. He approached Razirr'Ri to take a knee.

- "Lord, I heard what had happened. I immediately gathered the men of your guard scattered throughout the city to return."

- "Get up, Tasarr'Do," the khan ordered him.

Lord Razzir’Ri had known him for a long time and, like his father before him, he was the captain of his personal guard. For Tasarr'Do was Rasha'Do's son, Razirr'Ri's best friend and blood brother. Pain and sadness always gripped him when he looked at him, for he reminded him of his father whom he could not save from a fate worse than death. He had raised him as his own child. As he grew up, Tasarr turned to the profession of arms and became an exceptional warrior like his father before him.

- "If only I had been there," Tasarr said through gritted teeth. "I could have prevented this and your son would not have been hurt."

- "What's done is done. This is not your fault, Tasarr, for you have always been loyal to me." The khan Razirr'Ri rose from his seat and beckoned Tassar to follow him. "Come. I would not want to wake my daughter."

The princess was still sleeping peacefully as they made their way to the next room, which served as an office. There, Razirr leaned over his desk, looking down and tired. He felt as if he had aged ten years in one night.

- "She's back," he declared darkly.

- "She? The daedra?" said Tasarr, whose anger was evident in his eyes. "The one who killed my..."

- "The very one. In time, I had hoped this was all a dream... a bad nightmare I could wake up from. Alas... I was too naive."

- "The intruder was one of his followers?"

- "I'm convinced of it. He killed himself before he could be questioned... but others will soon come to complete his work. My daughter is no longer safe..." He sighed, "And I don't know what to do."

Few people around him knew about this prophecy. He had never told his own children about it, so that they would not grow up in fear and anxiety. He couldn't protect them from this secret forever. But for now, he had to focus on their safety.

- "Who else knows about the assassin?" asked Tasarr.

- "Me, you, Councilor Sakhar, and the three mercenaries I took in last night."

- "What about the servants?"

- "They don't know about the assassin. I asked Sakhar to make up a lie of some kind so they wouldn't panic. Why are you asking me this question?"

- "I may have an idea, my lord."

The captain seemed pensive as he examined a map of Elsweyr hanging on one of the office walls.

- "But I fear you will not like it..."

* * * * *

Alberic opened eyes reddened by lack of sleep. His couch was uncomfortable and infested with fleas. Rats roamed freely about his cell, squeaking and scratching the stones with their little clawed feet. And to top it all off, his Khajiit jailer sitting a few feet away was snoring as loud as a bull.

This was it... he really hated this country now.

Dawn had just broken when Flavia pushed open the prison door. The Khajiit guard barely stirred in his sleep, obviously able to sleep through anything. The young Breton was only too happy to see his superior and he jumped to his feet to stand at attention.

- "Captain. Are you coming to get me out of here?" he asked hopefully. "I wasn't expecting you so soon."

- "Let's just say a lot happened last night," she merely replied.

She kicked the jailer's stool and he woke up with a start, blinking his eyes. He looked at the woman with a surprised and still sleeping look.

- "Get up. I've come to get him," she said while pointing at Alberic with her thumb.

The khajiit grumbled as he stood up and stretched before grabbing the ring of keys that hung from his belt. He slowly approached the cell door without bothering to stifle a long yawn.

- "Things?" the young mercenary questioned, raising an eyebrow. "What happened?"

A few turns of the key later and the door to his cell opened to let him out. He was intrigued, however, by the words and attitude of his superior.

- "Lord Razirr'Ri wishes to speak with us."

- "Why?"

- "I believe he wants to offer us a contract."

- "He wants to hire us? To do what?"

- "You ask too many questions, Al'... pick up your stuff and meet me outside."

Alberic asked no more questions as the jailer opened a trunk to return the young breton's belongings. Flavia left the prison to wait for him outside, looking concerned.

She had a bad feeling about this story...

Notes:

[1] Title used in Skyrim and which corresponds to that of count or duke.

[2] Spell scrolls are rolls of parchment on which simple arcane formulas are written. When they are read aloud, the spell contained in the scroll is released. This allows uninitiated people or laymen to cast spells in a safe way. This type of item is very popular among assassins and thieves.

[3] A subspecies of khajiits. They are as big and strong as a man and very common in Tamriel.