Opportunities

Eight: You Don’t See Me

After a few days I couldn’t bear any more peace and solitude, so I headed back to Bravil to see if S’krivva had anything for me.

“This one has heard you are spending a lot of time in Anvil,” she purred. “Did you know that it is under the personal protection of the Gray Fox?”

“No, I didn’t.” Which meant that the more important I became to the Gray Fox, the less likely it would be for trouble from Fathis to follow me to Anvil. Excellent. “But I thought he protected the Waterfront.”

“And Anvil and its Countess. And that is what makes this plan so ingenious.” She paused for effect. “The Countess of Anvil is looking for a new guard captain, and the Gray Fox would like to ensure that Hieronymus Lex gets the position. That will get him out of the way of the Guild permanently while putting his…talents,” she said reluctantly, “to better use.”

“That is very clever,” I agreed, although I hoped he wouldn’t end up taking an interest in pirates if he was in Anvil.

“The commander of the Imperial Watch has sent a list of recommendations, and unfortunately, Hieronymus Lex is not spoken of highly. In this our previous efforts work against us. You must get the letter from the steward in Anvil and have a new version forged, recommending Lex. You will also have to get a hold of the commander’s seal to complete the forgery, and then deliver the letter to the Countess.” She didn’t have a suggestion for who to have write the new letter, but she promised to reimburse me for whatever I had to pay to whoever I found.

Back to Anvil, then. S’krivva was developing a habit of sending me right back to where I’d just been.

The Countess of Anvil, Millona Umbranox, was a widow. At least that was what everyone assumed she was and what she presented herself to be, since her husband had been missing for nearly ten years. She never married again: she just wrapped herself and the castle in lace and ruled alone.

Her steward’s name was Dairihill, and she was a light-haired Bosmer. Her office was within her private quarters in the heart of Castle Anvil, but she spent less time there than with the Countess. All of this I learned from the beggars, and also that the Castle had “secrets,” and that I might learn them from Orrin, the blacksmith.

There was something a little awkward, and yet also amusing, about crossing the bridge onto the island where the Castle stood and knowing that somewhere underneath it was my own home, the abandoned ship from which I managed my crew of pirates.

They hadn’t lied about the lace: long panels of it hung across the back wall of the audience chamber, and more decorated the blue gown of the Countess. She could not have been any older than my mother, and like Yvette she was lovely – although unlike my mother, she showed no interest in playing up that fact. The kind of prettiness she displayed was untouchable, and she wore her elaborate dress like armor.

The mer who must be Dairihill stood not far from her, and at the other end of the chamber sat several people of no special interest, waiting for an audience. I walked away from all of them and toward the hall leading to the smithy. It was still within the public part of the castle. I was within my rights.

Behind the counter was an elderly Redguard. “Orrin?” I asked, and he turned to face me. “I was told I should talk to you. Olvus sent me.” One of the beggars I’d talked to, more often called Penniless Olvus by the locals.

“Olvus, eh?” Orrin raised his eyebrows at me. “And what shadow sent you to Olvus?”

The veiled question, deniable to someone who didn’t understand it. “S’krivva.”

He smiled. “Well, you know what they say: a friend of S’krivva’s is a frightening thing.” He chuckled a little. “Do you need a fence?”

A fence, right in the middle of Castle Anvil. This was a wonderful city. “No,” I said, leaning in so we could speak quietly. “I need a letter out of Dairihill’s desk. Guild business.”

“I can help with that, too. Follow me.” We walked into a wine cellar, and he approached a niche in the northern wall, then turned to look at me knowingly.

“This will take you past most of the guards,” he said, pulling at one of the decorative pillars. A secret door opened. “The office will be on the left. Shadow hide you.”

I thanked him and went down the passage, which led up a set of stairs. After a quick spell to confirm that no one was waiting on the other side, I opened the other hidden door the same way. The room and the desk were both locked, but I was quick.

The letter called Lex “fanatical” and thus not especially good for the position. His fixation on the Gray Fox and repeated failure to catch him were taking a toll on his career.

I went back out through the secret passage and the smithy. Now I was going to need a forger, and I didn’t know one. I went back to Olvus for another tip, and he told me that there was a fellow in an abandoned house near the Mages’ Guild. No one seemed to know his name, and in fact he was so unassuming that it would be difficult to find him away from the house, but nonetheless he was the one to go to for a forgery.

I went in the morning, which was a mistake because he wasn’t there. I burned a few hours walking up and down the beach and came back in the afternoon, and he was there. I could see what Olvus had meant about being unassuming: he was a perfectly forgettable man –

Until he looked me in the face with his piercing gray eyes. He had the well-angled sort of face that probably looked even better now that he was in his early middle age than it had in his youth. Only his obvious discontent spoiled it.

“Olvus sent me,” I said.

He waved a hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, are you one of us or not, the song, the dance. Let’s skip all of that. You’re here for a forgery. Show me what I’m copying.”

I was startled by his candor. “How did you know – ”

“Well, what else would you be here for? I don’t lead tours of the city, you know. Come on, let’s have it.”

I pulled out the letter and gave it to him. As he looked over it, I explained, “Only we want it to recommend Hieronymus Lex instead of that other fellow.”

“Right, right. Otherwise you’d just keep the original.” He looked back up at me. “I’ll do it for five hundred. It’ll take me a day.”

I paid him and left before it occurred to me that we hadn’t traded names. Well, there was really no reason to, after all. What further use was I going to have for him after tomorrow?

My crew had come home with a thousand septims for me, and we spent the night out drinking to celebrate. I was happy for the company, but when I woke up tangled in Zedrick and Jak’s limbs, they were ready to set off again. I didn’t keep them.

We’d slept away a good portion of the morning, so I didn’t have to entertain myself for that long before I could go back to the abandoned house and get my letter. Knowing I’d just seen him the day before, I was surprised at how poorly I’d recalled his features. He was rather attractive for an unhappy man. He handed me both documents with an odd, humorless smile and told me to take care.

Now I was going to have to walk up to the Imperial City, do one thing, and then come right back all the way to Anvil. Maybe sometime I was going to have to invest in a horse. But at least the time I spent on the walk wondering what interest the Gray Fox had in Anvil was time I didn’t spend wondering why Othrelos had turned on me.

But why had – no, I didn’t want to think about that any more. It was because it didn’t pay to count on anyone, that was all. I didn’t see why that should surprise me so much, given my upbringing. I should already have known that I could trust people just as far as our common interests carried us. I was better off with S’krivva and my pirates.

Getting into the Imperial Legion commander’s office was a chore, since it was right in the middle of their headquarters, near the prison. I spent a full day and night watching the comings and goings of the Watch, trying to learn their rhythm. Then, of course, I had to creep off and sleep before I could come back and wait for one of the few openings they would leave me.

Then I ducked behind a table as some young fool defied the pattern and wandered in looking for something. I crouched there with my heart in my throat for what felt like an hour until he left. I was afraid I wouldn’t have enough time left to open the locked door, but luckily my hand was steady and I got through.

I rifled through the desk and found nothing useful. I had to open a locked trunk – more time burned away – to find the seal, which I quickly used on the forged letter and replaced. If it went missing, that would cast doubt on the letter when word got out.

When I came back through the first room, which seemed to be some sort of mess hall, a different man had come in, but he was not an attentive one, and I was able to move around behind him and escape.

More days of walking back down to Anvil. I washed and put on something nice before going back to the castle, since I figured I was going to have to present the letter to the Countess myself. It had finally dawned on me to wonder why her steward would have stashed the letter in her desk rather than actually giving it to her Lady.

The Countess Umbranox wore her hair back in a braided roll like I did, but hers was light brown streaked with gold. Her voice, like her face, was cool but not unkind. “This letter! I had given up on it. I was ready to appoint Dairihill’s cousin.”

Ah. I glanced sidelong at the steward, who did not look at all pleased by this turn of events. The Countess opened the letter and scanned its contents. “Hieronymus Lex,” she mused. “He sounds very well qualified.” She closed it again. “Please return to the Imperial City and inform him that he has the job. Dairihill will pay you the customary fee for courier work – it is twenty septims, isn’t it, Dairihill?”

“Yes,” Dairihill snarled, pulling out the money.

Twenty septims for honest work: no wonder I was a thief. But my pay was Dairihill’s face, and the anticipation of Lex’s.

I walked back out past a man who sat as if waiting for an audience, although he didn’t rise when he saw me leaving. He only watched me go, and I thought he had the ghost of a smile on his face. Did he know me? Had I ever seen – no, there was nothing familiar in his features. He was a stranger.

When I reached the Imperial City, Lex was, as before, pitifully cheerful to see me back in town, and asked me what I had been doing with myself.

“Right now,” I told him, “I’m working as a courier for the Countess of Anvil.”

“Anvil!” he smiled. “That’s a pretty town. I used to go down sometimes before I was promoted to captain.”

“You’ll be seeing it again. My message is for you. You’ve been appointed head of the city guard in Anvil.”

“I’ve what?” He looked perplexed. “I didn’t even apply for – oh, of course.” He winced in frustration. “The Gray Fox. It has to be.”

I made myself look innocent. “It has to be what?”

“He’s done this somehow,” he hissed. “To get me out of the Imperial City. By the Nine, and there’s nothing I can – ” He sighed, relaxed, and then spoke in a clearer but defeated voice. “There’s nothing I can do. He’s won. I’ll go to Anvil.”

I actually felt a little bit sorry for him. “It’s something of a promotion, isn’t it? Shouldn’t you be happy?”

“Yes, a promotion. He’s killing me with kindness.” He shrugged. “Well, Luminara, it is good to see you, and if you are living in Anvil I’ll be seeing you again. I should go and pack.” Then he went away dejected, the poor thing.

But I was off to Bravil to finally get paid for all this running back and forth. By now I was sick of travel, so I got a room in town and stayed the night there. I also bought and burned some lavender so the place wouldn’t smell quite so much like sewage.

In the morning there was a knock at the door. I ran through the options in my head: S’krivva had no use for me, or she would have told me the day before. Fathis wouldn’t dare come after me right under her nose. Othrelos – well, that was just too optimistic, and anyway, he had no way of knowing I was in Bravil.

It was Methredhel.

“The Gray Fox has a job for you,” she whispered after she was inside, a sort of awe in her face. “He asked for you specifically.”

“You spoke to him?”

She answered with a cheerful nod. “He will be waiting in Helvius Celia’s house in Bruma. You should go right away.”

“Should I? I thought maybe I’d keep the Gray Fox waiting for a few days.” But my smile was genuine, and she seemed to understand that I was making a joke. There was no reason for hard feelings between us.

Although I didn’t normally like the cold in Bruma, it was better than the smell of Bravil. There was a man standing outside Celia’s house: though he wore civilian dress and stood in a pose that was meant to look casual, I recognized by his carriage that he was there as a guard. He looked me over, nodded, and let me pass.

The Gray Fox stood as I entered the room, and smiled. “You’ve been doing capital work,” he said. “Handled Lex splendidly.”

I wanted to ask him about that, but it seemed presumptuous. “Thank you.”

“So now it’s time we got a bit more ambitious, don’t you think? You seem ready, and all the research checked out, so we should begin.”

“Begin what?”

He didn’t quite answer that. “First we are going to need Savilla’s Stone. It’s a crystal that’s kept at the Temple of the Ancestor Moths. I’m going to need it to give me… advantage. You’ll bring it here when you have it. Do you know where the Temple is?” I shook my head. “It is due east of here and due north of Cheydinhal. The place will be well guarded down where the Stone is kept. Do not kill any innocents – but.” He made a nervous gesture with one hand, as if considering. “But if you must fight the guardians of the Stone, there will be no blood price for that.”

I’d never heard of such an exemption before. “The Stone must be very important.”

“It is rather.” He made the gesture again. “There was another thing.” He paused. “You – kissed me, before.” Another pause, and he glanced away. “Thank you. It had been a long time.”

And abruptly the magnetism he’d tried to shut down last time was back, even stronger for the loneliness I was feeling myself. I smiled a little. “Careful, or I’ll do it again.”

“You shouldn’t. I’d only want more.” He looked back at me and gave a humorless little laugh. “That’s been even longer.”

That was hard to imagine. I stepped close to him. “Why?” I asked. His lips parted a little, and he was breathing harder as I moved into his space. “Why has it been so long?”

His hand wandered up to my cheek, but there was a bit of hurt in his eyes. “Don’t make me try to explain.”

I put my hand over his. “All right.” But I also pressed up against him and tilted up my head. “Then why shouldn’t I kiss you?”

Apparently he had no answer to that, because after a second he pressed his lips against mine. His first kiss was tentative, but when I responded by putting my arms around his neck it became more insistent, and his hands moved gently around my waist and onto the small of my back.

However, they left my back very quickly and grabbed me by the wrists when I made as if to push back the cowl. “No.”

“Why not?” I purred in his ear.

He sighed. “Because you are not going to want the man behind the cowl. You want the Gray Fox.”

I shook my head, planted a light kiss on his jaw. “You are the Gray Fox. And I am not quite that shallow.”

He growled in frustration. “It is not an accusation, it’s – very well.” He grimaced a little. “I’ll make you an offer, Luminara. Earlier tonight, I told you my real name. If you still remember it, I’ll take off the cowl.”

He did? He must have. It didn’t feel like a lie. Damn! Why hadn’t I paid closer attention? Why couldn’t I remember it?

He was waiting for me to respond, looking patient and resigned, knowing already that I’d forgotten, and I felt horrible.

“No, no,” he murmured, running his fingers through my hair. “Don’t be upset. I’m not angry with you. I was only making a point. We must be honest with ourselves about what this is, and what it is not. I am content with a – symbolic connection.” He kissed slowly up my shoulder, his hands back at my waist, and I wrapped my arms around him again.

“Who would you wish for?” he asked quietly, nuzzled close against the side of my neck. “Who is it you really want? Tell me a name.”

The symbolic connection. I felt strange confessing desire for one man in the arms of another, but it was what he wanted, and in any case the name came so easily to my lips that it was out before I could really think it through. “Othrelos.”

He nodded, content with my answer. “Millona,” he whispered in my ear.

That was the interest he had in Anvil. He wanted – but his tongue traced my lips and cut off that train of thought. The kisses were deeper now, harder, and he ran his hands up and down my back with increasing urgency, then around to start unbuttoning my shirt. Mine went, unconsciously, to stroke his face – and he jerked away from me again.

“I wasn’t trying to take it off,” I protested.

He relaxed back into my embrace. “I know.”

“This is going to be much more difficult if I can’t actually touch you.”

“I’m aware of that.” He frowned for a moment, then asked me if I had a scarf. I did, in my bag. He draped it across my eyes and tied it snugly behind my head.

A relieved-sounding sigh as his arms dropped around me again. “There. An extra safeguard against your curiosity.” This time his lips came to the base of my neck, where he kissed gently as he took off my shirt. Usually I liked more roughness, but somehow not being able to see him made his gentleness exciting. I felt for the edges of his shirt and fumbled with it, and he chuckled and took it off himself.

He made a thoughtful noise, then put an arm around my waist and slowly led me into a different room. Here there was a bed, and he laid me down. I raised my hips to help him finish undressing me, and shivered as his fingers traced gently down the length of my body. After another moment he pushed me back down and joined me, and I could feel the heat of his skin against mine. He ground against my thigh as he took my nipple into his mouth, and I dug my fingers into – into the fabric of the cowl, still on his head. He was taking no chances, even now. I growled a little.

“What?” he rasped, pinching my other nipple until I arched toward him. “Did you think I was going to take it off once I blindfolded you? What if you tried to cheat?”

He took me roughly with his fingers, as if that was supposed to be punishment for my impudence, and I moaned happily and moved in time with him. “Are you – are you calling me a cheater?” I laughed a little and he nipped at my breast, teasing. We both knew there was no point to his answering that. Nor to my asking my real question: who are you that it’s so important for me not to see your face?

When I was close to frantic with need he removed his fingers and slid into me, and I gasped with relief and clawed into his shoulders. He hissed, sharply enough that I was not sure it was with pleasure, so I tried to relax my grip a little. As we fell into a rhythm together, he pressed down close against me and brought one hand up to the side of my face, two fingers cradling the back of my neck. I arched my head up a bit and parted my lips, hoping to lure him in to kiss me, and it worked. His kisses were passionate now, almost desperate.

I brought a hand up to his face. Was his cheek damp? Was he –

He withdrew and tugged hard at one of my shoulders, turning me over onto my stomach. His hands swept down my back quickly, and he pressed against me again, his tongue tracing up my spine. I sighed at the shiver that sent through me, and then he thrust into me again, deeper for the new angle. I moaned and clutched at the sheets under me, frustrated that he had stolen most of my other options. He kissed along the back of my neck and shoulders, delicate kisses that made my nerves scream. I shook and howled at how much more I wanted. I could hear him panting into my ear as he gripped into my sides and pounded into me, kept going faster and harder only to find that I would still take more.

Soon there was no more for him to give. He came, and gave me one last slow kiss to the back of my neck, and collapsed. Even I was short of breath, and I was content to lay there and relax as he rose first and dressed. When he came back to the bed, he rolled me onto my back and politely took my hands to help me sit, then untied the blindfold. The room seemed uncomfortably bright for a few moments.

He’d brought my clothes and laid them next to me. While I dressed he stayed politely turned away, which I thought was merely quaint until I realized that he was still avoiding my gaze even after I was done.

I put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you ashamed that you had sex with me?”

He put a hand idly over mine, but still didn’t turn to face me. “It has nothing to do with you. You’re very lovely.” He sighed and glanced sideways at me. “Go and get the Stone. That’s what matters.”

Somehow that only made it worse. I squeezed his shoulder. “I want to understand.”

He patted my hand with a joyless laugh. “I’m afraid that not everything depends on what you want, Luminara.”

Why did people keep saying that to me?