Challenges

Ch 26 Departing

Saber tempered his anger as he made his way southeast of the camp to this placed called Kogoruhn. He successfully avoided the swordmaster, not wishing to face the aging swordsman’s lecture that was sure to come. Furthermore, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything more to Eiryn. The look of hurt in her face still haunted him. It bothered him greatly knowing that he caused that pain, but it was necessary, he reasoned. He couldn’t have her tagging along, and perhaps she wasn’t so far off the mark of his leaving. They’d be better off without him, moreso if they stayed out of the way of this prophecy.
His plan was to find these tokens for Sat-Matuul and from there, see about finding a quick route to nowhere. Morrowind was a big place, and for the matter he could find a ship to somewhere else. He’d heard of some trouble up in an island called Solstheim, perhaps he’d go there for a while. Perhaps he’d consider traveling to Black Marsh or Skyrim.
Doubts, however, continued to nag him, as he found the words of Nibani reprove his decision. “If he is the Incarnate, and he refuses to go, then we are all lost.” If he was…that seemed a big ‘if’… then Dagoth Ur would win. Eventually the mad god would control all of Morrowind, and perhaps there’d be no hiding then.
But I’m not the Incarnate, He told himself firmly. No matter what that wisewoman says. Wouldn’t I know? Deep inside, he felt distrust in his own thoughts. What of the dreams? What of the Sixth House priest calling him Lord Nerevar? What else could it mean but he was Incarnate after all? Hadn’t he dreamt of Azura herself speaking to him? Were his doubts simply not wanting any part of this Prophecy?
Saber was so engrossed in his own dark thoughts he realized too late a sound off the right sounded too close. Rocks and pebbles skittered down the steep incline of one of the hills that bordered the trail he walked on. The road, if one could call it that, was more of a deep vale bordered to either side by steep inclines. Boxed in and cornered, he found three more men drawing close, baring weapons. Bandits?
“Damn it.” He muttered, unsheathing his sword. Well perhaps he needed the warm up. A quick fight could help ease the tension and pent up anger he felt. From what he could tell, there were only three of them. Armed with swords, they had no bows or other projectiles. Their armor was a mix-match of light to medium pieces, and would hardly be enough from a skilled swordsman such as he. “Who’s first?” He called out to them, feeling cocky.
The three men were of human races. A Redguard with dark skin against the pale Chitin armor he wore, and from what Saber could see, another was a Nord with blond hair and blue eyes. He wore a helmet that shielded most of his face. The third was a mixed race, with the stocky frame of an Imperial, but the height and bulk of a Nord.
Coloring varied with unshaven faces and the dirty appearance of rogue criminals. One moved forward. He seemed to take control, only slightly turning to his comrades.
“He’s to be taken alive.” He reminded them. The other gave nods of agreement.
Saber frowned. Alive? What in the Nine Divines for? He swung his blade in an impressive flourish, illustrating proficiency with the sword. They hesitated, gauging their own skill against his before approaching. No doubt, they were counting on their numbers to win.
“And who, exactly, wants me taken alive?” Saber asked them, hoping to get information before killing them. When no answer came, he added with a self-satisfied grin. “Isn’t that going to be rather tough with all of you dead?”
Not unexpectedly, they refused to answer. Their only response was to move forward like a swarm. That maneuver was expected, and Saber knew the move as a group was to make up for their lack of skill. Blocking a sword thrusting towards his gut, he spun to elbow another opponent to his right. The left adversary received a sharp kick straight into his groin, dropping him like a stone.
The other two renewed the attack, nicking Saber on a forearm before he shoved one of them back to make room. He preferred short blades to the more bulky long blades, employing quick slicing and jabbing motions over the more arching attacks these two were using. It allowed him to easily break through their defense and draw blood before he blocked their retaliation.
The Nord growled in frustration as he lunged, finding his thrust deflected, and receiving a sharp blow to his nose in return. Using street fighting techniques, Saber never entirely depended on a weapon to win. While a blade might cause more damage, a punch, kick, even a bite can discourage an opponent further.
The man roared in anger now, losing more control. His comrade decided an attempt to move behind, but Saber ducked, rolled, and was back up on his feet with a reasonable amount of distant from them both. Without hesitation to give them time to respond, he advanced, swinging the Manos blade to catch the Nord across the chest before following through to strike a fatal blow to the Redguard. They dropped after staring with stunned expression before finally collapsing dead.
The last man groveled facedown and moaning. Holding his crotch, he tried reaching his sword that lay just out of reach. Saber touched the tip of his sword against the back of the man’s neck.
“Now let me ask again.” He murmured, barely out of breath. “Who exactly wants me taken alive?”
The man frowned, looking up to the southern ridge of hills as if expecting more reinforcements to arrive. Saber followed his gaze, but the area was empty. He tapped the tip of his weapons, pricking the skin enough to draw blood.
“I’m waiting.”
“He’ll kill me-“ The man started to say. Suddenly he lunged, grasping the hilt of his sword. The man snarled, lifting the blade up to attack. Saber had no choice but to thrust the sword through.
Cleaning the sword with the dead man’s tunic, Saber looked suspiciously around him. The man had been looking for someone, so either they left or were still watching. Was the person who wanted him captured alive somewhere watching now? Sheathing the Manos blade, Saber felt it best to continue heading towards Kogoruhn for now, but this time he’d remain a bit more attentive to his surroundings.

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He’s so fast! Fargoth had seen the whole thing under an Invisibility spell, remaining completely still beside a large boulder. He held his breath as the Dunmer frowned, looking around the edges of hills that surrounded the road for any signs of further threat. When the elf headed southward, the Bosmer stared at the bodies left behind.
Three against one! He’s better than I thought. This man, Feryl, as Valos and the Shadow man kept referring to him as, had changed little since last they met. At the time, Fargoth had no idea what a splendid fighter he was. If he had known, he might have tried to become close friends, for a bodyguard if nothing else!
Fargoth stopped the train of thought. It served nothing in idle thoughts of ‘what-if’’. Sent to lure Eiryn from the camp, Feryl couldn't help but appreciate that here was the Dunmer himself! Surely, Valos and the Shadow man wanted this one more than the scout. After all, she was the reason to lure him out, and here he was! What luck!
If he could take on three against one, they’d need more men to take him down. Furthermore, if he was heading on this road, he was heading straight for the stronghold. He was walking straight into their clutches and not even the wiser!
Considering his orders, Fargoth opted to hurry back to Valos to tell him of Feryl’s approach. He’d have to run if he was going to head off the Dunmer in time. They would need time to prepare and the day was ending.

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“I’m sure he didn’t mean it.” Merthisan said softly, resting his hand on the young woman’s shoulder. She sniffled, wiped a tear off her cheek as she shook him off. They traveled down the road, heading towards Maar Gan hoping to reach the settlement before sundown.
Eiryn had explained what had transpired, and Saber’s intention of leaving the quest. To her complete shock, the swordmaster showed no indication of being surprised. Instead of being angry, he attempted to offer her some comfort to no avail. She was angry, frustrated, but even moreso, heart-broken.
“You weren’t there.” Eiryn told him. “You didn’t hear him. He meant it.”
The sword master shook his head slowly. “He’s young. He always had a bad temper, and often doesn’t think before speaking.”
“He’s an idiot, but he still meant what he said.” She said in disgust. “He’s leaving.””
Merthisan didn’t reply as he followed behind her, which only infuriated her more.
“Saber didn’t even bother telling you anything, not even good-bye.” She persisted. “Aren’t you even mad at him, or does he do this to you all the time?”
Merthisan gave a soft snort. “I’m disappointed in him, but that is nothing new. And yes, he does this all the time.” The sword master had to walk faster to keep up with the younger woman. Her anger focused into making space between her and the Ashlander camp. “Its not the first time he’s run off. But I also understand why he does this.”
“Because he’s an idiot.” She scowled.
“He’s scared, Eiryn. Saber is overwhelmed. He just needs time.”
“Time for what?” She shot back. She’d stopped walking to turn and face the man, wondering why he seemed to have so much faith in the thief that let everyone down. How could be he calm about this? “Time is something we don’t have much of, Master Kendari! Dagoth is growing more powerful each passing day.”
The swordmaster huffed a light sigh. “You can’t force him, Eiryn. Didn’t he say he was doing a quest for the Ashkhan?” Eiryn nodded, wondering what his point was. “If he was leaving, do you think he’d bother doing another quest for anyone?”
She wasn’t convinced. “He probably thinks he’ll find treasure or something there.” Eiryn said, not really believing her own words. Her aggravation flared to boiling and she waved her arms out. “How can he do this?! I can’t believe he just up and left!” She turned on Merthisan, finding he was the only soul to which to vent. “How can you possibly have faith in him if he keeps running off like this?”
The aged face pinched into a soft smile. His blue eyes squinted. “Because he keeps coming back. He’s not perfect, Eiryn. He has fears, and hate, and insecurities like everyone else. But if you were to know what kind of boy he was, you’d appreciate what kind of man he is now.”
Folding arms across her chest, she tapped an impatient foot. “Fine. Explain it to me then. Explain how a cowardly thief is better than what he was.”
Merthisan dropped his pack to sit on a rock set near the road, and drew out his water skin to take a long drink. When finished, he motioned Eiryn to sit beside him, to take a break and calm down.
“First off, Saber is never what I’d refer to as a coward. Yes, he has fears, and yes, he tends to run off, but a brave man is not a man who has no fear, but a man who faces that fear. That is what Saber does, in his own time. You remember my telling you how I met him?” He asked.
“He was a thief.” She snorted in disgust, wondering how she could’ve been so stupid. How could she have fallen for a criminal-?
“He stole the sword he has. The Manos blade.” He explained, “When I caught him stealing, I nearly knocked him senseless to keep him in the school. I was going to turn him over to the city guard. He still managed to get away.”
“And he still had the sword?”
Merthisan nodded. “And I followed him. When I caught up with him, he was being severely beaten by his master.”
“Beaten? What for?” She asked. “He stole the sword, right? Wasn’t his master pleased?”
“He was punished because he was to steal the sword without being seen.” Merthisan clarified. “At the time I had no idea who the man was. That was much later, after Nekros was dead. At the time, I thought it was some thug, or a drunk that was his master. I fought him off, and to this day, I have no idea if I would’ve won. The man just up and left. He ran off, and I would’ve followed except I had this elf child bleeding on the street.” He shook his head, grimacing at the memory. “Saber had broken ribs, his hand was almost crushed, and was nearly unconscious. I took him in and healed him up. Now remember, all I knew was he was a street thief.”
He was an assassin’s apprentice, Eiryn thought. That master had been none other than Nekros that nearly beat Saber half to death.
Merthisan took another drink before continuing. “The next couple of days, I have to admit I was rather surprised by the boy. He was actually well read. He even knew several languages. Saber also had a natural gift for swordplay. Oddly enough, I found he knew very little about the world around him. He knew even less of his race. Dark Elves, he was told, were evil, bloodthirsty monsters, perfect for killing. That’s why Nekros wanted him, you see. A Dark Elf assassin was perfect, could do things a human assassin couldn’t. And one that was trained to follow direction, to be completely obedient, was exactly what Nekros was training him for.”
The perfect killing machine.
“So what happened?” Eiryn asked, now intrigued with the story.
The swordmaster wet dry lips. “I learned more about what his life was like.” He said, his words slow and deliberate so she’d understand. “Nekros forbade him friends, and the boy had no family. He rarely smiled, never laughed, and the boy flinched at sudden moves.”
Eiryn swallowed hard, realizing such action meant beatings must have been commonplace for him. She tried to imagine the light-hearted thief she knew as a boy Merthisan knew.
“He also had a temper. Not often, but occasionally, he’d fight or break something. There was something …untamed about him.” Merthisan pressed on. “There were times I was even afraid of him.”
“But he was just a child.”
“A child?” The man shook his head. “Saber’s childhood was stolen from him, Eiryn. Though he never said anything to me, I think he must have seen Nekros’ handiwork, what he did to his victims. Remember, he was also being trained by that monster.”
He sighed, wiping a hand through his hair in a nervous manner. “A young girl worked for me. She was so intrigued with Saber. To her, he was so exotic and fascinating. She was a year or so younger…maybe. We don’t know how old Saber actually is, but regardless, the girl warmed up to him, and much to my surprise, he seemed to like her as well. Lyra was the one who taught him to smile.”
Lyra….the woman Saber mentioned before. Eiryn recalled his mention of her, how he bought the Blue Lady for her, and she’d been his first woman.
Merthisan smiled now. “She was the daughter of a courtesan. A very bright girl she was, and she was always laughing and joking.” He paused then, lost in memories. “Only after Saber was with me for a few weeks, Lyra disappeared. We had no idea where to even look for her, but Saber knew. You see, Nekros had taken her to punish him.”
“But Nekros didn’t kill her.” Eiryn said, knowing that as fact. Saber had bought the Blue Lady for her, right?
Merthisan shook her head. “No, she wasn’t killed, but Nekros intended to. He wanted to teach Saber a lesson, to show him that friends and people you care for are disability, not a benefit to have.” For a brief moment, he fell silent, remembering a very dark time. “Saber had to go to him, alone. He never told me he even left. Saber to this day, never told me details of that night. Lyra returned, letting us know what he’d done, freeing her, and facing Nekros alone. You can imagine my surprise the boy shows up late that night.”
“He killed Nekros then, didn’t he?”
Merthisan nodded, his eyes losing most of their sparkle. “Saber refused to tell me. In fact, he never did. He won’t speak of it. I heard of Nekros’ death from the city guard days later. However, something happened that night I don’t know what. I’m thinking something more happened between them. Nekros was the closest thing to a ‘father’ Saber knew, and he had to kill him. Killing a man is not easy for a man, let alone a boy.” He swallowed hard.
“What happened then?” Eiryn asked softly.
“He came back to return the Manos blade. I offered him a place at my school. He refused.” Merthisan spoke in a flat tone, perhaps stunned the elf boy had refused, or he blamed himself for not pressing harder for him to stay with him.
“How could he refuse? He’d finally have a home-“
The swordmaster smiled gently, placing his hand on her shoulder to be sure he had her attention. “Because he wanted, above all else, to have his freedom.”
Eiryn was shocked, but suddenly understood why Saber felt so trapped. He wanted to be independent. He valued his freedom. Ever since he’d been in prison, now in Morrowind, he had little choice in anything. The prophecy confined just as easily and as completely as a prison.
“And Eiryn,” Merthisan said continuing in his gentle voice. “Can you understand now what manner of man he could have been?”
Merthisan was right. Saber was very close to becoming a cold-blooded killer, but instead opted to be a rogue thief. Now his chosen profession didn’t seem so bad after all. In fact, his wanting to escape for a while also seemed understandable.
“But why a thief then?” Eiryn countered. “He could’ve just as easily followed a path that wasn’t criminal.”
Merthisan again nodded in agreement. “His skills were mastered in the art of stealth and killing. But moreso, Saber never considered himself anything but an outsider.”
This still didn’t provide comfort to the scout with his words on her returning to Balmora. He wanted nothing more to do with her. Saber might be simply cross with her, or perhaps she’d pushed too hard in regards to his staying. Either case, she was taking the swordmaster back to the city and most likely would never see Saber again.
She forced a smile and nodded. “We better get going if we want to make it to Maar Gan before nightfall.” Merthisan didn’t see the silent tears stream down her face as she took the lead.