The Demands of the Divines Chapter 6 in The Demands of the Divines

Delphine’s plan to get Fakhriya into the Thalmor Embassy to learn what the Thalmor knew about the return of Alduin had been set into motion. Fakhriya had gotten past the first checkpoint and was about to join the First Planting Reception.

“May I take your coat, Thane?” asked a Bosmer woman as the entryway door shut out the cold evening air.

“Yes, please,” Fakhriya replied as she allowed the woman to help her remove her arms from the overcoat’s sleeves. Fakhriya was careful to surrender both gloves to the woman and to retain the invitation.

“If it pleases you, Thane, I can take that for you,” the woman said when she noticed Fakhriya holding the envelope. “You will have no further need for it.”

“Thank you,” Fakhriya said as she surrendered the invitation. The Bosmer woman indicated that Fakhriya should continue down the hall to the reception room.

Fakhriya ran her hands over her head to flatten any errant strands of hair and adjusted the jacket to smooth the fit as she made her way along the broad carpeted hall. The Embassy was warmer than she had expected. Fakhriya briefly considered that Delphine might have been correct in choosing a lighter dress for the reception, but as she became acclimated to the warmth of the hall, she detected a chill close to the floor and was thankful that she had dressed as she had.

Where the hall opened into the reception room Fakhriya noticed her contact, Malborn, working the bar in an alcove at the right end of the room. She thought that it would be nice to have a mead in any case and that getting a drink would provide an opportunity for her to let Malborn see that she had arrived.

No sooner had Fakhriya worked through that thought than she was confronted by a tall, thin Altmer woman.

“Welcome,” said the Altmer in a tone that was cold, if polite. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I am Elenwen, the Thalmor Ambassador to Skyrim. And you are?”

“Fakhriya, Thane of Whiterun. Pleased to meet you.” Fakhriya moved to get around the Ambassador and end the conversation, but the Ambassador blocked her path.

“Ah, yes. I remember your name from the guest list. Please tell me more about yourself. I’m interested to know how a Redguard finds herself the Thane of a Nord hold.”

“Madame Ambassador,” Malborn called out. “I’m so sorry to interrupt.”

“Yes, Malborn. What is it?” Elenwen asked with a steely tone.

“It’s just that we’ve run out of the Alto wine,” Malborn’s voice wavered as he continued, “Do I have your permission to uncork the Arenthia red?”

“Of course,” Elenwen replied. “I’ve told you before not to bother me with such trifles.”

Elenwen returned her gaze to Fakhriya, but before Fakhriya could think of something to say a commotion at the door diverted Elenwen’s attention.

“Please, help yourself to some wine,” Elenwen said offhandedly as she left Fakhriya to investigate the matter at the door.

Fakhriya took the opportunity to move into the reception area. A pretty Nord woman was playing a lute in the opposite corner. She was no one Fakhriya knew. Near the bard stood several people, mostly Nords, who were talking loudly and waving wine glasses recklessly. Fakhriya thought she recognized Erikur, a Thane of Solitude, among them. She looked around the room to see if Jarl Elisif was in attendance, but if she was, Fakhriya did not see her.

There were several other groups of people, seemingly divided by class, standing around the room. Two Thalmor soldiers watched over the crowd, one at the far end of the reception area opposite the bard and the other at the corner where the entry hall met the reception room. Fakhriya noticed Elenwen marching up the hall at a brisk pace and the Redguard man Fakhriya had met earlier staggering up the hall behind her. The Bosmer woman at the door waved her hands in the direction of the Redguard man as she ardently explained something to a third soldier who nodded repeatedly. To avoid renewing Elenwen’s interest in her, Fakhriya moved to the bar to get out of the Altmer’s path.

“What can I get for you, Thane?” Malborn asked brightly as Fakhriya approached the bar. He continued in a softer, shakier voice, “You made it in. Good. As soon as you distract the guards, I’ll open this door and we can get you on your way. Let’s hope we can both live through this day.”

Fakhriya took note of the wooden door behind the bar. Moving her gaze around the room, Fakhriya tried to avoid making eye contact with the guard who stood nearby as she struggled to come up with a suitable distraction. She was suddenly aware of a snifter placed near her at the bar.

“The finest Colovian brandy, Thane. Is there anything else I can get for you?” Malborn asked.

“No, that will be all, thank you,” Fakhriya responded as she took the snifter and moved away from the bar. She brought the snifter to her nose. The brandy had the faint smell of hazelnuts and apricots with just the suggestion of cocoa. She took a sip. The cocoa was more apparent in the taste along with a rich, smooth spiciness. This was a finer brandy than she had ever had before.

As the taste of the brandy dissipated Fakhriya noticed the Redguard man looking forlorn as he sat alone on a bench. She saw he was empty handed.

“You look like you could use a friend,” Fakhriya said to the Redguard man as she approached him. He looked up with an annoyed expression, but then smiled.

“Hey, there’s my Little Missy,” he said. “Why don’t you sit on my lap and tell me all about how you’re enjoying this party?”

“I thought you looked like you could use a drink,” Fakhriya said as she moved close enough to hand the man the snifter without getting too close.

“Little Missy, you bring joy to an old man’s heart,” the man said as he accepted the glass.

“I wondered if you could do a little something for me,” Fakhriya said.

“With a pretty girl, there’s always a catch, isn’t there?” the Redguard said. He took a sip of the brandy. “Oh, this is nice. For this, I’d give you the moons and stars.”

“I would settle for a little excitement,” Fakhriya said. “Do you suppose you could ruffle the feathers of some of these stiff birds?”

“You are a troublemaker, aren’t you?” the man said with a sly grin. With a little effort he got to his feet, took a more substantial taste of the brandy and pointed himself in the direction of his chosen targets. “You just stand back, Little Missy. I’ll get you some excitement.”

“Do you know what your problem is?” the Redguard yelled in the general direction of several groups of people. Someone among them took the bait and the Redguard focused his attention on that individual.

As the Redguard had moved forward, Fakhriya stepped backwards towards the bar. When the soldier near the hall moved towards the center of the increasingly heated squabble, Fakhriya dashed to the door where Malborn was waiting.

“Let’s go, let’s go,” Malborn hissed. “Hurry, before anyone notices us.”

Fakhriya moved past Malborn and stood near a second wooden door while Malborn leaned against the door they had just entered to close it. He was already panting nervously from the excitement.

“So far, so good. Let’s hope that nobody saw us slip out. We need to pass through the kitchen. Your gear is hidden in the larder,” Malborn explained as he moved to the second door.

“Just stay close and let me do any talking, got it?” Malborn said. Fakhriya nodded. Malborn put his hand on the lever of the door and took a deep breath before opening it.

“Follow me,” he said as the door swung open.

The kitchen was spacious and much hotter than the reception area. The smell of garlic and frost mirriam dominated the room. Fakhriya didn’t notice the Khajit woman behind a large prepping table until she spoke.

“Who comes, Malborn?” the Khajit hissed as she started to come around the table. “You know I don’t like strange smells in my kitchen.”

“A guest, feeling ill,” Malborn offered. “Leave the poor wretch be.”

“A guest?” the Khajit stopped where she was. “In the kitchens? You know this is against the rules.” The Khajit looked around nervously and slowly retreated behind the table.

“Rules, is it, Tsavani?” Malborn countered with a sudden boldness. “I didn’t realize eating Moon Sugar was permitted. Perhaps I should ask the Ambassador...”

The Khajit hissed and swatted at the air as she turned her back to Malborn and the guest to busy herself with a pot that had reached a boil.

“Get out of here,” the Khajit said. “I saw nothing.”

Malborn led Fakhriya past some crates and barrels to a storeroom. He unlocked the door and held it open as he encouraged Fakhriya to step inside. There were several shelves of wine and mead on the back wall of the dimly lit room. Against the length of the wall to Fakhriya’s left were several more stacked crates and free standing barrels. To Fakhriya’s right there was a small table, another couple of barrels, and a closed door. On the floor in front of the beverage shelves there was a wooden chest with metallic fittings.

“Your gear is in that chest,” Malborn said. “I’ll lock the door behind you. If that door is unlocked the patrols might notice something is wrong.”

Fakhriya opened the chest. She fasten a small satchel containing a couple of potions around her waist and draped an empty messenger bag over one shoulder and across her chest. She then retrieved an ebony sword, an ebony bow and a quiver containing glass and elven arrows.

“Hurry it up,” Malborn said impatiently. “If someone misses me at the party, we’re both dead.”

“Wait a second,” Fakhriya said just as impatiently. She turned to stand with her back to the door that she intended to exit. She held her cupped hands in front of her chest and concentrated until she could see a blue light hovering between her hands. With a snapping motion in her wrists she cast an armor spell on herself. The room was momentarily bright with an electric blue glow and then faded back to darkness.

“I’m ready,” Fakhriya said. She exited from the door behind her into a well lit hallway appointed with ornate tables at the entrances to several rooms, two on the left side and one on the right. She crouched down and heard Malborn lock the door behind her.

She tiptoed slowly up the hallway and took a position between a table and a wooden door that opened into the hall. Behind the door she heard two men talking about newly arrived mages from Alinor and the possibility of dragon attacks at the Embassy. Fakhriya struggled to recall what Delphine had told her about the layout of the Embassy building. She thought Delphine had said that she would have to exit the Embassy building from the private quarters and get across the grounds to the Ambassador’s residence. Fakhriya cursed her luck. The men were between her and the exit to the Embassy grounds.

Fakhriya was snapped out of her thoughts when the men laughed.

“Well,” one of the men said as Fakhriya heard a tankard make contact with a table, “we’d better get back to our rounds.”

Fakhriya waited a few moments. When no one came out the door where she was hiding, she peered around it. The man who met her gaze looked as surprised to see her as she was to see him. Before he could finish the exclamation he started Fakhriya swung her body around the door so that she was in the doorway, nocked an arrow and fired it into the man’s throat. The Altmer fell to his knees and brought his hands to his neck. Despite his wound, he tried to cry out. Fakhriya fired a second arrow into the soldier to silence him.

“What’s going on?” Fakhriya heard from another room. “Is someone there?”

Fakhriya quickly retreated to her earlier hiding spot. She heard rushing footsteps, a curse as the person who entered the room undoubtedly discovered the body on the floor and then the renewed sound of footsteps running towards the door where she was hiding.

“Don’t think I won’t find you,” the Altmer on the other side of the door said as he entered the hall. On the floor Fakhriya could see the shadow the soldier cast as he stood in the doorway. His right hand was momentarily in her line of sight as the Thalmor soldier gave a cursory glance in the direction of the storeroom door. She then heard his footsteps as he ran down the hall in the other direction, presumably to investigate the other two rooms.

Fakhriya took the opportunity to enter the room the soldier had just exited. There was a bar with several stools in front of it, several book shelves and directly in front of her two large, thick glass windows. The dead soldier’s head pointed towards a staircase that went upstairs. Fakhriya saw a mage coming down the stairs before he saw her. A single arrow in his chest knocked the mage squarely onto his back. Fakhriya suddenly became aware that the other soldier would likely return soon. She turned in a complete circle once and better than halfway around a second time before she located a door that she hoped would take her outside.

The cold air took her breath away as Fakhriya closed the door behind her. She reflexively crouched down in the hopes of assessing her new situation without being seen herself. She realized there was a canopy of some sort over the doorway. A fence enclosed a snowy patch of land that may have served as a garden and defined a path along the perimeter fence. She didn’t see anyone, but Fakhriya knew the compound was crawling with soldiers. Aware that her armor spell had long since expired, Fakhriya turned to face the door she had just exited with the hope that her body would block the flash of light that accompanied the casting of the spell.

It didn’t.

Fakhriya turned around after casting the spell to see a soldier moving in her direction with his head cocked at an inquisitive angle. With the cover of the fence she was below his line of sight, but she would not enjoy that advantage for long. She pulled an arrow from the quiver and waited for the soldier to walk into her firing line. The first arrow was enough to stagger the soldier, but he remained on his feet and raised an alarm as he drew his weapon and ran towards her. A second arrow stopped him momentarily, but it took a third arrow, which Fakhriya didn’t fire until the Thalmor was nearly close enough to strike her with the sword he had unsheathed, to bring him to the ground.

Fakhriya moved as quickly as she could in a crouching position along the pathway to the end of the fence line. She could hear other soldiers reacting to the cries of the Altmer she had just killed, but she didn’t see anyone. When she reached the end of the fence line, the grounds opened in a broad expanse. On the opposite side stood the Ambassador’s residence. Fakhriya put her bow on her back, stood upright and shouted.

“Wuld nah!”

Fakhriya came to a stop at the door of the second building. As she returned to her senses she realized she was standing in front of a mage who was casting a spell. She unsheathed her sword, but not before the wizard completed a shock spell. Jagged lines of visible lightening sparked around Fakhriya as she hacked at the mage. The smell of smoldering wool incited Fakhriya to swing the blade with as much force as she could manage as quickly as she could. The armor spell she had cast was protecting her against the brunt of the mage’s assault for now, but if it dissipated before Fakhriya could gain the upper hand, she would be defenseless. The mage’s spell abruptly ended as the man fell to his knees. Fakhriya stabbed the mage to finish him off.

As the mage fell to the ground Fakhriya sheathed her sword and slipped through the door into the Ambassador’s residence.