The Story of Trey- Chapter 8 Options

[treydog]

Chapter 8

Physically, the return to Ald'ruhn was easy- simply a matter of casting Recall. Emotionally, it was more difficult. My life had been saved, but it had also been profoundly changed. I needed to talk to someone- but what I had to say would lead to more questions and more explanations. There was only one person I could talk to, and that was Athyn Sarethi. When I first sought his sponsorship, there was a great deal about my past that I had not told him. Now, I believed the time had come to remedy that situation. And yet my fear of doing so was in equal measure to the respect I felt for Athyn. The rescue of Delyna Mandas presented no difficulty- it was in keeping with the values of House Redoran. But I would also need to explain much more, such as how I came to be at Tel Fyr. And what of the Nerevarine prophecies business? Although I still wasn't certain that I believed in the prophecies, let alone that they had anything to do with me, that was the sort of thing that would put the Temple into an uproar. And, as my mentor and friend, Athyn Sarethi was likely to be harmed by the resulting inquiry. Again I was reminded of the consequences of becoming known, of gaining prominence and position. It wasn't just about power and privilege- there was also responsibility. Perhaps I had been spending too much time around the Redorans- I was beginning to consider the ramifications of my actions instead of rushing blindly ahead.

Before going to my friend, I gave myself the luxury of a day to rest and consider. Unsure of his reaction, I also packed up my gear so I could leave on short notice if that became necessary. When I found Athyn in his accustomed spot in Sarethi Manor, he greeted me warmly and expressed his pleasure at seeing me again. I wondered if he would still feel that way when I finished what I had to say. After the exchange of pleasantries, I cleared my throat and said, "There are some matters and events concerning me that you should be aware of. You have treated me as family and it is not right for me to keep this knowledge from you."

And then I explained how I had been "recruited" by the Blades, the duties I had carried out, how I had been afflicted with corprus, and how Divayth Fyr had cured me. All that I held back was the story of my arrest and imprisonment and the insane scheme to have me named Nerevarine. The first I omitted because I felt that it had been the result of Imperial intrigues rather than my own actions. As to the Nerevarine foolishness, I refused to burden this honorable man with such a dilemma. Duty would force him to denounce me to the Temple, whatever his heart might tell him. And I would be locked up for something I didn't even believe. Throughout the telling of my story he remained silent, other than asking a servant to fetch wine when my throat grew dry. At the end of my long recitation, he clasped my arm and said, "It is good that you have told me of these things. I sense that there is more that you have left unsaid, but we will let that be. If I believed your secrets would harm Redoran, that would be a different matter, but I trust in your loyalty to your House."

Then he paused, poured more wine, and took a thoughtful sip. "As to the Blades, you must take your own counsel. The fact that you were forcibly made a member is balanced by the fact that you have since taken assignments willingly. If you had discharged the messenger duty and refused further service, there would be no question of honor. As it is...you have as much as given your word to perform loyal service and you cannot renege simply because the duty has become onerous."

He smiled to rob his words of any sting and added, "Do not misunderstand me- I do not doubt your courage. I am perhaps more aware of your deeds than you know. When you asked me for sponsorship, I sought what information could be found regarding 'Trey of High Rock.' You are better-known and more highly thought-of than you may realize- at least among those whose opinions I respect. As to the corprus, its progress is arrested and you are not contagious; it is a wonder and a miracle. I see no evil or ill-intent in this. A word of caution, though- best to keep this knowledge close- not everyone will be so understanding."

A distant look came to his eyes and tears glistened in them as he continued, "You have been of great service to my family- you brought my son back to me and saw to it that he was cleared of the murder charge. You protected me from the Morag Tong assassins at great risk to yourself. And you have been valuable to House Redoran. Nothing you have told me causes me to regret my sponsorship- on the contrary, you have made me proud. If there ever comes a time when you fear that your duties for the Blades will bring harm to your House, speak to me and we will decide how best to proceed. Now, as to Arethan Mandas...let me consider that. Meanwhile there is a matter of concern regarding Ondres Nerano's slanders of Bolvyn Venim."

Athyn Sarethi would need some time to locate Arethan Mandas- Vvardenfell was still largely unsettled, and most of House Redoran's people were scattered across the frontier. Meanwhile, there was another problem that required delicate handling. Athyn was aware that I preferred to handle things with persuasion whenever possible- an inclination that suited the Redoran sense of honor. Specifically, a Hlaalu by the name of Ondres Nerano was doing his best to spread a story about the head of Redoran, Bolvyn Venim. The story was that Venim was involved in an affair with the wife of another Redoran councilor. Because this story brought dishonor on the House, Athyn wanted me to convince Nerano to stop spreading it. He asked that I be careful not to attack Nerano without provocation- however, if he challenged me to a duel, that would be acceptable. There was a strange twist to Athyn Sarethi's mouth as he referred to Nerano's "slander." It was as if he tasted something bitter, but was manfully trying to swallow it. He seemed to be trying to convince himself even more than me when he said, "It is for the good of House Redoran."

That was the first time I had ever seen him appear doubtful. Yet, when I asked him if there was a problem, he said, "Please- do not question your assignment. We must act for the good of the House, even when we find it personally distasteful. I trust you to carry out your orders in a way that will not dishonor us. Unlike some who call themselves Redoran, you understand that rank should be accompanied by responsibility."
He would not say more, and even as I wondered to whom he referred, I vowed that I would not disappoint him.

Ondres Nerano was easy to find- he lived in one of the largest houses in Balmora. When I asked him about the rumors he had been spreading, he looked at me incredulously. "Are all you Redorans stupid? It isn't a rumor, it's a fact. Everyone knows it is true."

Remembering Athyn Sarethi's anguished face, I began to doubt. But then, I also remembered what he had said about the "good of the House." Therefore I responded, "Regardless of the truth or falsity, Hlaalu, it is none of your concern. You will speak respectfully of Redoran, or I will teach you better manners. It is not meet that scum such as you should defile the name of my House with your words."

As I had anticipated, that angered Nerano, who sputtered, "Very well, if it's a duel you want, you've got one," and slapped me.

When I had left High Rock, I had promised myself that no man would ever again lay hands on me without retribution. It took all of the restraint I possessed to keep from running Nerano through on the spot. But the words of Athyn Sarethi echoed in my head- "Do not dishonor your House." And so I found myself in unarmed combat with Ondres Nerano. Anyone walking in would have been confronted with an amusing sight- a Breton and a dark elf, both swinging with all their might and unable to hit anything. For whatever reason, I had never developed my unarmed combat skills, and it was apparent that Nerano hadn't either. Additionally, my superior speed and agility allowed me to dodge most of his clumsy punches. Unfortunately, my own understanding of actual offensive hand-to-hand fighting was nil- I had only ever been on the receiving end of punches and kicks as I grew up.

So we danced and dodged up and down the room, flailing away at one another like two fish-wives fighting over the last good vegetables in the market. As was my way, I fought silently, not wanting to waste my breath on useless exclamations. Nerano, however, maintained a constant stream of taunts and threats- all of which were ludicrous, considering that he couldn't even touch me, let alone land a decisive blow. At last, I grew tired of this nonsense and drew my sword. My intent, though, was to weaken my opponent, not to kill him. Therefore, instead of swinging the sword in sweeping cuts, I used the point and the edges as delicately as a surgeon. A feint to the eyes, diverted at the last minute to slice his cheek. A jab toward the throat, turned to nick his earlobe. Finally, I simply began to beat his ribs and thighs with the flat of the blade. It was humiliation, pure and simple- for it was clear that I could easily kill him at any time. Bleeding from half-a-dozen irritating wounds, battered and bruised, he soon yielded.

"You have defeated me. I withdraw what I said and will speak of it no more."

And so, honor was satisfied, even if I wasn't. Don't misunderstand, I was very happy that I had not been forced to kill him. Still, the whole thing left me with the same bad taste in my mouth that seemed to have afflicted Athyn Sarethi. How can it be honorable to beat someone, even an enemy, for telling the truth? Much as it pained me to admit it, the thought came to me that House Redoran needed to be set in order. And hard on its heels came another- who would be capable of accomplishing that task?

[treydog]

Upon returning to Ald'ruhn, I decided not to trouble Athyn Sarethi with my doubts about my latest assignment. He had trusted me when others would not, so I was willing to give him the same courtesy. And besides, it was clear that the business weighed upon him at least as heavily as it did on me. So instead, with my promise to Delyna Mandas still on my mind, I asked if there was any news of her father. Athyn replied that Arethan Mandas seemed to have disappeared and no one was certain where he had gone. There were rumors that the apparent loss of his daughter had driven Mandas mad and that he had wandered away into the wilderness. Knowing that my promise to Delyna was important, Athyn vowed to keep searching for the whereabouts of the father. Meanwhile, he had other news that touched upon an earlier investigation. He had continued to inquire as to the source of the ash statue which had entrapped his son, Varvur.

After much effort and expenditure of gold, he had traced to smugglers to a cave called Shurinbaal, which was just outside of Gnaar Mok. He explained the situation thus: "Thank you for handling the matter of Ondres Nerano so carefully. Now I must impose upon your loyalty and friendship again. As I noted earlier, I have been able to trace the leaders of the smuggling ring to a cave near Gnaar Mok. Normally, we would use Redoran guards to take care of the matter, but Bolvyn Venim will not allow it. He claims that, because Gnaar Mok is a Hlaalu town, an operation by Redoran forces nearby would be seen as a provocation. He also argues that the increased number of creatures coming out of the Blight requires that we maintain our guards closer to our own possessions. His reasons seem plausible, but I wonder if he is not simply taking another opportunity to thwart me."

He paused and, with a visible effort, regained his composure. "And so it is that I turn to you, my friend. I know how you feel about killing and I respect your attitude. But I tell you that this is a war, a war for the very survival of our House and my family. The leaders of the smugglers are Enjine and Daroder and they must be slain. If you can accomplish this and leave the others unharmed, that is acceptable. But the leaders must be accounted for. We stopped one plot- who knows what form the next attack will take? I do not ask this lightly- I ask you as a friend to defend my family as you have before."

Naturally, there was only one answer to such a request, and I promised to leave as soon as possible.

The cave of Shurinbaal was easy to find, lying only a stone's throw southwest of the town of Gnaar Mok. Upon entering the cave, I was immediately set upon by a Redguard woman with a Dwemer battle-axe and a scowl. The heavy weapon could have caused serious injury if it had struck, but I was able to avoid the blows. Soon enough, the first of my targets was dead on the floor. Of the next half hour, I will say little, except that I passed through the cavern like an avenging spirit and left no one alive. Apparently the rage that I had thought was burned out of me still smoldered just beneath the surface. I took no pride in that day's work, nor did I feel much remorse. It was just a job and I was simply the tool used to do it. The gods know that my victims were not innocent- in fact, they were as bloody-handed a bunch as I had ever encountered. No, the innocence I mourned for was my own. I have forgotten the names of most of the dead, but their faces thronged my sleep for many years afterward. Although I was never sorry that I had joined House Redoran, there were times that I wished I had never come to Vvardenfell at all. I cursed the intrigues that had brought me hence and I cursed Bolvyn Venim, whose fecklessness forced me to become the agent of so much destruction.

Back in Ald'ruhn, I was greeted with good news and bad- Arethan Mandas had been located, but he had indeed gone mad. Athyn Sarethi reported that Mandas, once a great man in House Redoran, had moved into a cave near the Maar Gan road and declared himself the "Lord of West Gash." He was demanding tribute from all who traveled the road. A few of his loyal retainers had stayed by him and a number of outlaws had joined in as well. They were all likely to defend him to the death. Athyn hoped that there might be a way to restore Mandas to sanity, and suggested that I speak to the great man's father, Lleran Mandas, in Ebonheart. This assignment, though it promised to be difficult, was much more to my liking. If I could save the life of Arethan Mandas, perhaps it would make up in a small way for the lives I had taken. And perhaps it would be possible to avoid a confrontation with the retainers and outlaws, as well. After the last two missions I had undertaken, a bloodless victory would be sweet indeed.