Old Habits Die Hard Part Three, The old dog practices new habits Options

[haute ecole rider]

Here is the first of a third thread for Old Habits Die Hard. I appreciate all of you staying with Julian and I this far, and hope you stick with us to the end!

For those who want to go back to the beginning, here you go:
Old Habits Die Hard Chapters 1 - 7
Old Habits Die Hard Chapters 8 - 13

[haute ecole rider]

@mALX: I knew that about the Brotherhood. Vampire hunters, huh?

@Trey: I’m glad you liked Claudio - he is my favorite of the Watchmen. He’s the one that should be Captain of the Watch, not that fop H. Lex! Thanks for your nits. I’ve fixed them.

@SubRosa: Eventually Julian will accept ‘Hero of Kvatch’ or be called worse. Yikes! Thanks for the compliments on plotting - IMHO it’s one of my weakest points.

@hazmick: CSI:Tamriel? CSI?? I’ve always regarded Julian as more like Brenda Leigh Johnson in The Closer. *Adopts Southern accent* Thank you.

@Acadian: JAG, too? B- But he’s Navy!! All right, technically, my family’s had guys in the Navy (Dad was a Seabee, one uncle was Navy swabbie, another uncle was Marine), but hey, Julian’s Legion, for Akatosh’s sake! I’m glad you enjoyed the brief interaction between Julian and Forenze.

@Olen: well, in all the vampire movies I’ve seen, the windows have all been covered, so I suppose vampires are as sensitive to visible-to-infrared wavelengths as to UV. After all, fire is just as destructive for a vampire as sunlight. Windows block only UV, which causes sunburn in normal humans.

@Remko: Seridur does deserve a slow death, doesn’t he?

Julian returns the Staff, and has an unexpected conversation. Don’t worry, the Brotherhood quest will be completed. Eventually.

*******************
Chapter 14.7 Return to Bravil

The next day, back in Bravil, I found Vamori pacing restlessly outside the Mages Guild, muttering to himself and pulling on his lower lip. He looked up as I approached, his gaze hesitating on the Mage’s Staff at my back. His face lit up as I stopped in front of him.

“You got it back!” he exclaimed.

“Of course I got it back,” I replied. “Have you apologized to Ardaline yet?” The young Dunmer’s face fell.

“No,” his voice was small again. “I can’t think of the words to say.”

“Just say, ‘I’m sorry, Ardaline, for taking your Staff.’” I answered. “There are times when simple is best.” I gripped his shoulder with my sword hand, turning him towards the front door of the Mages Guild. “Let’s go together.”

Vamori did not resist my urging, but slumped up the steps to the door. We entered the Guild together, then I nudged him forward toward Ardaline’s alchemy room at the back of the building. “Some things you have to do on your own,” I said, spotting Kud-Ei seated at the reading nook. She looked up as I unslung the Staff. I lifted it up for her to see, catching the smile on her face. With another nudge, I handed Vamori the Staff. “After causing all this trouble, you may as well give the Staff back yourself.”

The polished wood clutched in pale grey knuckles, Vamori walked slowly towards the Alchemy room, its double doors wide open. Beyond, I could see Ardaline, her back to the doorway, hard at work at a calcinator. As I watched, Kud-Ei rose and glided over to me.

“I ssee you recovered the Sstaff,” she whispered, turning to watch Vamori’s progress with me. “I will not assk how you obtained it.”

I fished out the small pouch she had given me. “Here, I never had to use this,” I dropped it into her palm. Kud-Ei shot me a sharp glance, but said nothing. After a moment, she turned back to the scene unfolding in the other room.

Through the open doorway, we watched as Vamori stopped beside the counter, opposite Ardaline. He cleared his throat a little too loudly. The young Altmer carefully lowered her beaker and turned around. We saw the surprise on her face as Vamori thrust the Staff towards her, muttering something we could not quite hear.

“My Staff!” Ardaline was around the counter in a flash, taking the long wooden object and caressing it. I bit my lip at the sudden thought that Vamori was probably wishing he was the Staff in that moment. Then the tall Altmer leaned down to throw her arms around Vamori’s shoulders. “Oh, thank you, thank you!” she was saying. The Dunmer hesitated, then put his hands stiffly on her shoulders and patted her awkwardly.

I heard Kud-Ei’s slow inhalation. “Easy, ma’am,” I whispered to her. “He’s more tongue-tied than she is right now.”

“Hmm,” was Kud-Ei’s noncommittal response.

Then Ardaline drew back from Vamori’s clumsy embrace, raised her right hand, and slapped him, hard. Kud-Ei jumped at the sound of flesh hitting flesh. I stifled a smile as Vamori staggered back, clapping his hand to his cheek. “That’s for stealing it from me, you fool!” Ardaline scolded him. To his credit, the Dunmer hung his head and took it without protest. “All the trouble you’ve caused me! All the nights I couldn’t sleep worrying about it!” Ardaline thumped her Staff on the floorboards for emphasis, its power flaring slightly along its length.

Vamori kept his eyes on the floor, twisting his right foot around its big toe, and mumbled something. All I could hear was his voice cracking. His face turned purple with shame. Ardaline calmed down, her eyes resuming their normal placid beauty. “All right,” her voice was barely audible, “I forgive you.”

“Well,” Kud-Ei exhaled slowly. “It seems you have accomplished much more than I expected, Associate.”

“It would seem that years of training recruits does come in useful from time to time, ma’am,” I remarked.

Kud-Ei chuckled voicelessly. “You have your recommendation, Associate,” she said quietly, turning away from the little tête-à-tête.

***************
As I stepped out into the sunlight, warm for the cool Hearthfire day, a woman’s voice called to me from Canal Street. My eyes fell on the lean form of Captain Lerus walking toward me. A gesture of her sword hand beckoned me to join her.

I fell into step beside her, limping toward the Quivering Bridge over the canal. Lerus said nothing at first, and I remained silent when I sensed the pensive air to her stride. The breeze in our faces was cool against my sun-warmed skin. The leaves on the aesculus trees on the banks and the betula trees along the canal were still green, but the southward slant of the noon sun clearly indicated autumn had arrived.

The captain stopped in the center of the Quivering Bridge, turning east to look over the canal toward the docks below. She rested her hands on the rough cable handrail as I stood beside her.

“Do you intend to stay in Bravil long, Julian?” she asked quietly. The carefully neutral tone of her question spurred me to glance at her face, but Lerus kept her eyes on the deep green water below.

“I only returned to finish up some business with the Mages’ Guild, ma’am” I answered. “I need to head out tomorrow.”

Lerus was silent for a few moments longer. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, Julian,” she seemed to arrive at some decision. “Count Terentius is very upset with you, and is threatening to call on the Dark Brotherhood.” Her eyes lifted to the stone walls of the castle beyond. “Only the fact that you closed that Oblivion Gate outside of town has kept him from following through on his threats. That,” she added after a moment’s thought, “along with the matter of your status with the Mages’ Guild.”

“What?” I’ve never met the Count. What did I do to get into his bad graces?

“He was none too pleased when I reported gro-Dragol’s - passing to him, as well as the closing down of the Hunter’s Run.” Lerus did not look at me. “I get the feeling that gro-Dragol has been paying the Count a portion of his profits.”

Is that why Lerus didn’t drag gro-Dragol off for questioning when Loche disappeared? That had been a small detail, which I had initially considered of no consequence, but had been bothering me more and more lately. It just didn’t seem to fit in with the competent image of Lerus I had developed over time. “Do you have any proof of that, Captain?” Now I understood why we had stopped in the middle of the Quivering Bridge. As long as we spoke quietly, no one on the banks could overhear us. Sneaking up on us would be impossible given the nature of the aptly-named bridge.

Lerus shook her head emphatically. “The Count is just a little too clever for that.” Her eyes shifted to the left bank of the canal.

“If the Count is getting a share of gro-Dragol’s profits, where are they going, ma’am?” I looked around at the shabby board-and-batten construction of the buildings around the canal. I considered the rope suspension bridges common here, unlike the more sturdy timber spans of Cheydinhal and the strong stone structures in the Imperial City, Kvatch, and Skingrad. Despite its ideal location on the Niben Bay, Bravil was easily the poorest county seat I had seen so far.

“How much do you remember of your erstwhile companions in the skooma den?” Lerus countered. I realized the direction of her gaze. Though not visible from our vantage point thanks to the dockside buildings between the canal bank and the rickety structure on the corner of Canal Street and Gate Way, there was no question what Lerus was looking at.

“Not much, ma’am,” I thought for a moment. “I remember a Khajiit named R’vanni, and a big Nord -” aren’t all Nords big anyway? “- called Something the Rotted.”

“Reistr the Rotted,” Lerus nodded to herself. “Anyone else?”

“There were others, ma’am” I admitted, “but I never bothered to learn names in that place. I don’t think any of us cared to.” I gazed down the canal toward the castle, searching skooma-fogged memories for faces that never quite solidified into reality. My eyes fastened on a richly-dressed figure crossing the castle bridge toward the town. His green velvet, trimmed with gold brocade, struck a chord. “Him I remember showing up every now and then,” I said suddenly, indicating him with my chin.

Lerus followed my gaze. “Ah, Gellius Terentius,” she commented. “In the skooma den?” Somehow the question held no surprise.

On the other hand, I was surprised. “The Count’s son? That’s the Count’s son?”

Lerus turned and started toward the north bank. “Yes, Gellius Terentius, the apple of the Count’s eye.” She led me to the junction of Mara and Canal Streets, stopping near the crumbling stone planter that marked the intersection. We watched the green-dressed figure, gold brocade resplendent in the sun, head for the rickety flight of stairs leading up to the top floor of Carandial’s building at the far end of Canal Street. Without hesitation, the young man sprang up the creaky steps and disappeared through the garret door.

Lerus remained beside the planter, not speaking. A few moments later, her patience was rewarded by the reappearance of Gellius Terentius carrying a silk-wrapped bundle in his right hand. Whistling reached us on the breeze as he made his way back to the cobblestones of Canal Street and walked east, toward the castle bridge. When he disappeared from sight, Lerus walked to the Mages’ Guild steps, stopping with downcast eyes at the bottom of the stoop. “What do you think he could be carrying?”

I met her gaze levelly. “Place like that? Only one thing, ma’am.” A sudden thought occurred to me. “Is it just the son, or is the Count addicted too?”

Lerus shrugged. “All I know for certain is that he does not see people past four bells in the afternoon.” Now she faced me for the first time during the entire conversation. “There are only two places here in Bravil where you and I can speak frankly about such matters,” she tipped her head back over her left shoulder, “the Quivering Bridge and here, the Mages’ Guild. Kud-Ei runs a very tight ship, and the Count has little influence here.”

I felt my brows lifting at the implications. “I understand, ma’am,” I said quietly.

“There’s one other item of interest,” Lerus added. “A pirate ship -” her eyes unfocused momentarily, “- ah, the Marie Elena, cruises up and down the Niben regularly. We’ve seen them board merchant ships out in the Bay, but they never dock here. Instead, once a month, they drop anchor out on the open water, and gro-Dragol always sends a skiff or two out to them. They off-load their cargo with him and proceed on their way. I mentioned it once to the Count, but he told me it was nothing of importance. Now I wonder -” her voice trailed off.

I thought I knew the direction of her thoughts. Smuggling skooma, as well as stolen goods from the ships they’ve boarded? A memory of a sad-eyed Bosmer woman surfaced in my mind. “What happens to the passengers and crews of the boarded ships, Captain?”

“I’ve seen them toss bodies overboard,” Lerus’s voice grew chill. “Most of them are weighted to sink, but an occasional one washes ashore.” She shook her head. “I’ve heard of no survivors - if there are any, likely they’ve been taken to slave markets in Black Marsh and Elsweyr.”

“The victims you’ve been able to identify,” I held Lerus’s gaze, my tone matching hers, “is there any way I can find out who they are, ma’am?”

“They’re few and far between,” Lerus responded. “How far back do you want to go?”

“Five years?” I asked. She nodded curtly.

“I’ll have Frederick bring them to you,” she turned to leave.

“Just a moment, Captain,” I stopped her. “Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because you’re like me, in many ways,” Lerus responded, her green eyes steady on mine. “But the most critical difference between us is that your hands aren’t tied.”

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Sep 1 2010, 07:40 PM