VIII

Brother Coronus was pacing back and forth in front of the entrance to the inner chamber of the shrine. From time to time he glanced inside uneasily but did not dare to enter. It had been two days since High Priest Jaro had retired to perform the ritual of dream handling. Such a spell required long and careful preparation and extreme concentration.

The khajiit stood with his hands resting on the rim of a large basin filled with a fluorescent blue liquid. His eyes bulging in their sockets, he stared at the contents without blinking, unmoving since the start of the ritual. Noxious vapours rose from the large bowl to billow around the high priest's head, obscuring his face and snout. What was he doing? What could he see? How much longer would this go on? Coronus did not know, and he did not envy the cult leader. Even as he stood in the doorway of the chamber, he could feel the air made heavy by the effects of daedric magic. Approaching the high priest in the middle of the ritual could be dangerous, even fatal.

Brother Coronus could only wait in silence, wracked with anxiety and curiosity. He had never practised dream handling and had always wondered what someone else's dreams might be like.

* * * * *

It was like swimming.

Swimming in an ocean of memories and sensations that were not your own. Each wave was a reflection of a past image, real or dreamt. Here, Khajiit children playing together. There, the memory of a meal under the stars. A little further on, the embrace of a loved one.

How long had he been swimming in these memories? Jaro did not know. He had to fight constantly to avoid being swept away and drowned by the streams of a memory that was not his own. Dream handling was a dangerous spell, and if one was not careful, one would find oneself trapped forever in this labyrinth of alien thoughts. The mind wandered while the body remained in the material world and withered.

So he had to struggle and swim against the tide, among these memories to grasp only those that interested him. Everyone dreamed, even when no memories persisted after waking up. And much could be learned from dreams. But at the moment, the high priest was focusing on only one image. That of the moon-eyed princess. Fortunately for him, these memories were fresh in the dreamer's mind, for memories were like waves on the surface of water. The more distant a memory was, the fainter and more erased it was, whereas a recent memory was clear and limpid.

But access to a dream also required a certain amount of consent on the part of the host, and the host's mind was strong and determined. For many moons the high priest had been working to coax the information he sought from him. The months of hard and dangerous work were beginning to pay off and the dreamer became more and more compliant each time Jaro entered its dreams.

His mind came closer to the desired information, but the more he tried to look at it, the more the image became blurred. The dreamer was still resisting. The high priest infused a few carefully chosen images into the reluctant mind to make it yield. Images of a loved one. Images of a dying, pleading father.

Slowly, the image he was trying to reach became clearer, a sign that the dreamer was giving up the struggle. He could see large savannahs with tall grass, a bumpy paved road, fields of sugar cane... a big and vast mansion. That's it.

There she was...

* * * * *

In the inner chamber of the shrine, the high priest suddenly sat up with a deep breath, like a swimmer who has been under water for too long before suddenly surfacing. His spirit was returning to his material body and it was always a painful experience. Hunger, thirst and fatigue seized him immediately after those days of deprivation. How long had it been since the ritual began? It was impossible to know. Time always passed strangely in a dream. One minute inside was several hours in the material world.

The high priest staggered on his legs. He felt as weak as a newborn kitten and clutched at the basin to keep from falling. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the blurred figure of Brother Coronus approaching to hand him a jug of water with a trembling hand. Jaro immediately grabbed it and took long gulps.

- "How... How long?" he asked in a breathless voice after emptying half the jug.

- "Two days, High Priest. "

- "Two days..." he repeated, looking thoughtful. "Fetch Brother Dronos, now."

Brother Coronus nodded before leaving High Priest Jaro alone to empty the jug of water. He was still thirsty and his belly was screaming. He also had to fight off the fatigue that was assailing him but he had wasted enough time as it was and his dark master was likely to become impatient. He had no time to rest.

- "You sent for me, high priest?"

As usual, the Dunmer assassin had arrived without making the slightest noise. He was kneeling on the threshold of the room, his head bowed in deference.

- "Yes, Brother Dronos." Jaro stood up, fighting his sudden dizziness. "We must go south to Pellitine. Go warn our brothers. Let them prepare for the journey and the transfer of the shrine."

- "What is happening, high priest? Why this departure?"

- "I have found the bride of our master."

- "So she is alive and well?"

- "Indeed she is. That old Razirr thought he could fool us into believing his daughter was dead. " He smiled under his hood. "But he underestimated us... I found her."

- "We will be able to fulfill our master's wishes."

The dark elf assassin's eyes glowed with fervor at this news and he allowed himself something very rare. Something that the high priest Jaro had never seen in him before, even after all these years. Brother Dronos was smiling. It was the sadistic smile of a hunter who had caught the scent of his prey. When he spoke again, his voice sounded almost cheerful.

- "Where is she now?"

* * * * *

More than forty leagues to the south, the caravan continued on its way under a bright sun. Lying on bundles of goods at the back of a cart, Shazira was sleeping and dreaming... or rather, she knew she was dreaming. She knew it because she had been having the same dream for several moons already.

She was alone, lost in old decrepit corridors, covered with dust and cobwebs. The frescoes on the walls had been erased by the passage of time and torches crackled at regular intervals. But their flames cast no light, leaving the tomb dark and shadowy... and so cold. Shazira hated the cold and she could feel her hair stand on end. She wandered through the eerie corridors for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, a tall door appeared at the end of the corridor and she approached it with shaky, hesitant steps, already aware of what she would find in it. It was always the same image.

The interior of the room was like a void filled with darkness that no light could penetrate. But despite the darkness, the figure standing in the centre was clearly visible. It was Khan Razirr'Ri, her father, on one knee, leaning on the broken shaft of his old spear. His white fur and mane were stained with blood and he was panting, breathing with difficulty. His armour was torn and blood was pouring out of his wounds in large pools that were growing at his feet.

Shazira felt fear and pain seizing her at the sight but she was unable to move. It was not the horrible scene or the dizziness caused by this dark void that paralysed her. It was what she knew was behind her. After all, this was not the first time she had had this dream...

The princess turned slowly to see the torches in the hallway being extinguished one after another. Soon she too was plunged into darkness and the image of her dying father disappeared. A long, snake-like whisper echoed in the darkness and she felt it almost caress her fur. She was so cold...

* * * * *

Shazira opened her eyes suddenly and then closed them again, dazzled by the blinding glare of the sun. Her other senses soon reassured her as she could smell the wood and fabric beneath her, feel the jolting of the wagon at her back and hear the creaking of the wheels and nearby conversations.

That was it, she was awake.

The young khajiit stretched out her full length on the cloth bundles before moving into a sitting position. She rubbed her eyes to clear the last traces of her disturbed sleep. She had been having the same nightmare for too long and it was beginning to worry her. Shazira had been reluctant to tell Captain Tasarr'Do. She had known him since childhood and trusted him completely. But she also feared that he would laugh at her and take her for a scared and frightened young kitten. It was probably nothing. The princess had had similar nightmares in the past and they had always stopped. There was no need to worry about such a small thing, she thought.

Her feline gaze fell on the caravan, which was moving well under the Pellitine sun. The good mood of the caravaneers was palpable as the journey was coming to an end. The evening spent in the company of the Baandaris was still fresh in everyone's memory and everyone had enjoyed a most pleasant moment of relaxation with wine, songs, dances and, of course, moon sugar.

Well, almost everyone.

- "Alberrric!" She called, waving her hand at the young mercenary.

The young Breton was walking along the side of the road, watching the surroundings. At the princess' call, he slowed his pace to match her.

- "Hello Shazira," he said in a friendly tone.

- "I already told you, call me Shazi," she grumbled.

- "As you wish, Shazi... slept well?"

- "It's not as comfortable as a bed, but it's better than nothing. What time is it?"

- "Not far from noon, I'd say."

- "I slept a long time..."

- "You drank a lot of plum wine last night. Captain Tasarr was worried. "

- "Yeah..." She pouted before smirking, her cat ears perking up on her head. "Did you enjoy the evening?"

- "It was pretty good, yeah. I liked the song."

- "And... that's all you liked?" She continued at the young breton's raised an eyebrow. "You didn't go to see the beautiful black baandari? She seemed disappointed when you went to sleep in your tent..."

- "Stop it with that..."

He blushed and looked away, but that didn't stop the young khajiit from laughing and teasing him.

- "Oh come on... you didn't like her? She seemed to have a soft fur, a pretty muzzle and nice curves. It would have made a nice story to tell. "

- "I told you before, Khajiit women are not my type.

- "That didn't stop you from watching us dancing... a lot, in fact."

Alberic preferred not to respond to this little jab and he had to admit that he found the bodies and gestures of these cat men and women fascinating and pleasant to watch. However, he was not ready to admit it, and even less so in front of the princess. It would only encourage her in teasing him.

Suddenly the caravan stopped moving, the wagons suddenly stopping one after the other along the road.

- "What's going on?" asked Shazira as she stood up on the cart to look ahead of the convoy.

- "I don't know."

The young mercenary frowned, his gaze following the same direction as the young khajiit's. Captain Flavia was walking up the convoy at a run and Alberic took the opportunity to call out to her.

- "Captain, what's going on?"

- "We've arrived," she replied without even stopping.

* * * * *

The Golden Cane Farm was a moon sugar cane farm like any other.

Wide water-filled terraces allowed the moon sugar cane plants to grow to maturity. Several buildings and outbuildings mounted on stilts housed the workers, tools and crops. In the centre stood the master's mansion, richly built and decorated, and surrounded by high whitewashed sandstone walls.

The Khajiit caravaneers were unloading the carts in the courtyard, assisted by the farm workers. Alberic watched in silence before turning his attention to the rich building. It was a handsome mansion, built of precious wood and two storey high, with flowered balconies and tall windows. The person who lived there must be very rich, he thought. It reminded him of the villages of highrock with their thatched houses clustered around the manor of the local lord.

- "Alberic!"

The young breton was drawn out of his thoughts by Flavia's brittle voice beckoning him to approach the villa main door. Gunnar and Master Imril were with her and they seemed to be waiting only for him.

- "What's going on, Captain?" he asked as he joined them.

- "The master of the house is waiting for us."

Alberic asked no further details and followed his superior into the rich mansion. The mercenaries passed through a series of high-ceilinged corridors with colourful carpeted floors. They were guided by a Khajiit butler who ushered them into what appeared to be a study. Piles of parchments were piled up on the desk and tables and a large water pipe bubbled and smoked by the window. They were not alone, for Captain Tasarr'Do, Councillor Sahkar and Princess Shazira had preceded them. There was no one else, except for a large ginger cat sitting on the desk that the young mercenary found ridiculous. Someone had had the funny idea of making him put on small clothes and jewellery in his size. He found the sight both comical and grotesque.

The butler closed the door behind the mercenaries, leaving them alone with the other khajiits.

- "Is everyone there? Good, good...", a voice sounded that Alberic could not identify. "I hope you had a safe journey and welcome you to the Golden Cane Farm. I am Lady Toziri, sister of Khan Razirr'Ri and humble owner of this moon sugar farm."

The young breton turned his head in disbelief as he searched for the voice. Then he noticed that the cat sitting on the desk was staring at him, a slight smile on its lips.

- "To see how you’re acting, young man..." the cat said in an amused voice. "You have never seen an alfiq[1] in your life. We don't travel much outside of Elsweyr."

Alberic was now looking at the cat with wide eyes. Lady Toziri, sister of the khan Razirr'Ri and owner of the Golden Cane Farm was... a cat. A big cat even. Shazira rushed over to hug her with a big smile on her lips.

- "Auntie Tozi!"

- "Calm down, little Shazi," her aunt replied with a laugh. "I'm glad to see you too, but not in front of everyone. Come on, put me down now."

The princess obeyed after a last affectionate lick. Lady Toziri sat back down on her desk before smiling at Alberic.

- "If you feel like cuddling or scratching me, please don't, young man. We are not intimate enough for such familiarities.[2]"

- "Lady Toziri." Captain Tassar took a step forward. "We thank you for your welcome and your help."

- "Say no more, Captain. My brother told me of your arrival. He also told me what happened in Rimmen and the... trouble you’re in."

The cat turned his gaze to the mercenaries.

- "You must be the foreign mercenaries my brother told me about, yes? Like him, I want to thank you warmly for protecting my niece. The Golden Cane Farm will welcome you for as long as you wish... and for as long as your contract lasts."

Lady Toziri tapped her paw on the desk and the jewel on her forehead lit up briefly. A shimmering bell materialized above her head and sounded loudly before disappearing. Alberic had seen mages cast spells before, but never in such an original way. The next moment, a Khajiit servant entered the office, bowing his head respectfully.

- "My butler will get you settled in the annexes while Councillor Sahkar, Captain Tasarr and I talk." She then turned to the princess. "You too, my little Shazi. You will be staying upstairs, near my room. And I'm counting on you not to get into too much trouble, yes?"

- "I promise, Aunt Tozi."

The young khajiit nodded and gave her a final hug, licking her cheek. The Alfiq pushed her away with a laugh.

- "That's enough, at last! Go on, get out of here, you little brat. "

The mercenaries and the princess left the room, leaving the owner alone with Captain Tasarr and old Sahkar. As soon as the doors were closed, Lady Toziri's friendly smile faded.

- "So he's back," she said darkly.

- "Yes," the Khajiit captain nodded.

- "We all expected him to return with the birth of Princess Shazira... we just didn't know when or where he would strike," the advisor said.

Lady Toziri lay back on the desk with a sigh, her tail wagging nervously behind her. Her guests sat cross-legged on the large cushions facing the desk.

- "I approve of my brother's idea, but I doubt we can fool this daedra indefinitely."

- "She will be safer here than in Rimmen. No one else knows that the khan's daughter is here," Tasarr said.

- "And those smooth-skinned mercenaries? Why do they know?"

- "They were there when the first assassin struck. They're the ones who saved the princess, by the way."

- "Can we trust them?"

The captain was about to respond, but Councilor Sahkar beat him to it.

- "I have expressed the same concerns to Lord Razirr'Ri... I think it was a very bad idea to hire them. There is no guarantee that they will not betray us to our enemies."

- "They are skilled and experienced, and they could have betrayed us on many occasions already," Tasarr interjected, "They have saved the princess life twice."

Lady Toziri listened carefully to the arguments of the two khajiits. After a moment of silence, she made her judgement by standing up straight.

- "My brother trusts them and I trust my brother. If he saw fit to hire them, then he must have had good reasons. We will, however, keep an eye on them and make sure they are never alone with my niece."

Councillor Sahkar and Captain Tasarr nodded in unison in agreement with Lady Toziri's decision. The latter still seemed anxious, however.

- "We are remote and isolated from everything here, but it is not easy to escape the vengeance of a daedra, and from what my brother has told me, he will not give up until he gets what he wants... what was his name again?"

Captain Tasarr'Do clenched his fists and fangs before answering.

- "Ophia..."

* * * * *

- "Fed and housed at the Princess's expense," Gunnar said as he threw his gear on his bed. "That's pretty good... although it would be better with a nice bottle of mead."

The mercenaries had been housed in one of the annexes attached to the villa. The place was probably originally intended as a storeroom before it was comfortably converted into a bedroom. There was a fireplace in the centre of the room between the floorboards and four beds that the Khajiit servants had hastily made. Mattresses made of terror bird feathers would make them much more comfortable than the bedrolls they had been sleeping in for the past two weeks. Flavia inspected their new quarters and seemed satisfied. Like any good soldier, she didn't care about comfort, but they were ideally located near the villa and could quickly respond if needed.

- "I was sure you'd end up complaining about this," she said as she inspected the back door, which opened onto a modestly sized cellier. "I'm afraid you'll have to stay sober for a while yet."

- "Bah! The place looks nice and I'm sure the cats have a couple of liquors that will do just fine."

- "No drinking until I give the order... you know the rules, Gunnar."

The tall Nord nodded with a grunt but Flavia knew he would not disobey. Nords tended to be impulsive and do as they pleased, but Gunnar had been under her command for many years and had developed a great respect for his superior.

- "Unpack your things. Then we'll inspect the estate and establish patrols," she ordered with her usual authority.

The mercenaries responded in the affirmative, with the exception of Master Imril. He was not technically under her command, but he had been recruited to protect Princess Shazira. Flavia had many questions about the said mage. During their crossing of the northern desert of Elsweyr, their previous employer had stressed the crucial nature of his presence within the caravan. Yet he had hardly ever left his trailer and no one had seen him cast a single spell, not even when the convoy was attacked by bandits or wild animals. He was distant and unkind to the other mercenaries, preferring to isolate himself in his corner without saying anything. Perhaps he would prove more useful later on.

Flavia's gaze met Alberic's. The young breton, though still inexperienced, had pleasantly surprised her in the last few days and he was slowly becoming more experienced. His rescue of the princess in the middle of the sandstorm had impressed her greatly. A few more years and he would be a good soldier. He looked worried, however, as he unpacked his gear.

- "Is something wrong, Al?"

- "Captain? Well... it's just..." He seemed hesitant to continue.

- "You can speak freely," she reassured him.

- "Okay... we were ordered to escort the princess to safety and it's done. No one will find her here."

- "And so?"

- "So why do we stay?"

- "Our contract commits us to protect her as long as she is threatened."

- "For how long?"

- "As long as it takes, Al. " She put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him. "Don't worry about it and leave it to me. We won't be here forever. "

The young mercenary nodded as he went back to his business. After a moment, Flavia turned her gaze to the large mansion in the centre of the courtyard, an unreadable expression on her face.

Alberic wasn't the only one who was worried.

* * * * *

The room where Shazira had been put up was not lacking in any comfort.

There was a large four-poster bed with a transparent silk mosquito net and a profusion of soft, finely embroidered cushions scattered across the floor. Precious wooden and gilded furnitures were arranged against the walls. There were also a plethora of copper dishes and bowls containing fruit or sweets prepared for her. There was even a plate filled with almond fritters with sugarmoon, her favourite pastry. Her aunt had done everything right and prepared for her arrival with her usual thoroughness.

But despite the luxury and calm of the place, Shazira could not relax or rest. This place reminded her too much of the room where her father kept her locked up in Rimmen's palace. On this journey through the Anequina Desert, she had felt freer than ever and had given free rein to her curious and adventurous nature. She discovered new landscapes, saw wild animals and even braved a sandstorm! It had been a frightening but also very exciting experience for the young khajiit. And now she was locked in a room again...

She had only traded in her old golden cage for a new one.

Two guards had been posted outside her door and the princess guessed that from now on she would always be accompanied and watched whenever she moved.

She drew aside the curtain of one of the windows to look outside. She could see the large fields of sugar cane stretching like miniature forests waving lazily in the wind. Evening was beginning to fall and the workers were returning from the fields to rest, their path lit by the dying sun and the light of the moons that were appearing tentatively in the sky. She longed to dip her paws in the large bodies of water where the moon sugar canes grew and feel the evening breeze on her fur.

After all, she was safe here and she would find a way to distract her guardians. It wouldn't be the first time... but not tonight. Shazira felt tired after such a long journey. With a light, supple step, she reached the large bed and dropped onto the mattress with a sigh.

She stared at the ceiling of her room, lost in thought. Although the princess felt tired, she did not want to sleep because she was afraid of having another nightmare as soon as she closed her eyes. She preferred to think about tomorrow.

She preferred to think of all the things she would be able to do and discover.

Notes:

[1] A subspecies of khajiit. Alfiqs resemble large house cats and are, like all khajiits, endowed with intelligence and speech. They also have a certain affinity with magic.

[2] Although similar to domestic cats, alfiqs do not like to be treated as such and find it particularly insulting given their high intelligence.