Dagnell walked down the shore of Lake Honrich, observing the layout of Goldenglow Estate. There were actually two small islands; one housing the manor house and the other, connected to it by a rope and plank bridge, dotted with the unmistakable domes of apiary hives. The massive stone bridge leading from the shore to the estate was, indeed, well manned by wary-looking guards, and she took great care to appear as much like a simple traveler as she could. Once she was well past the bridge she ducked into some shrubs to hide and double back, and sighed. There just wasn’t going to be another way into the place than to swim.
She worked her way back to Riften and out through the north gate. If she was going to swim, it would be an easier approach from the west side of the estate than from the east, where the bridge was; and it would be much easier in the dark. A tiny islet with a few trees and shrubs afforded a sheltered spot for a nap. At sunset, the dropping temperatures woke her; she snacked on a bit of cheese and waited for full dark.
The easy part was going to be getting to the hives themselves, if she could find a foothold in the island’s rocky banks. There was a fence just behind them; if she could get up there she might be able to use it as cover, sneak around the end, and set the hives ablaze before the guards could react. There was only one way to know, though. She slipped into the cold water, grimacing, and slid silently from the shore toward the apiary.
It was an ideal place for a secure operation; the banks of the smaller island were nearly vertical. She moved cautiously around the edges, reaching up, searching for any kind of toehold, muttering “Come on, come on,” afraid of losing her grip and splashing back into the lake, alerting the guards. The only other way to get to the hives was across that plank bridge from the house, and there was no chance in Oblivion she’d be using it with guards walking patrol at both ends.
Finally she found one small ledge within reach. It took a lot of effort, but at last she was able to heave herself up onto it, panting. Damn her small stature, anyway. She waited, catching her breath, hoping she hadn’t been spotted. A few moments passed with no sounds of pursuit. All clear so far. There were enough uneven edges in the bank that, from there, she was able to jump up to its top and inch along to the end of the fence.
There were two guards loitering near the closer end of the bridge, but it was the middle of the night and they didn’t seem to be paying much attention. “Well, here goes,” she thought, and pulled together her flame spell. Creeping behind the hives, she moved three into the line and set it ablaze, then backed out the way she had come in, catching the other two as she went. Just as she slipped into the water she heard frantic, dismayed shouts; the guards had finally realized that they had a major problem on their hands.
Dag dove and swam a good distance out from the island, then surfaced and looked behind her. The blazing hives set up a glow that was going to ruin any night vision the guards might have; and their frantic efforts to dump water on the fires and stay away from outraged bees had them well away from the main house. She swam toward the estate, found the sewer grate Vex had mentioned, and dropped inside. So far, so good. Now she needed to get into the house, relieve Aringoth of his key to the safe, and clear it out. The catch, according to Vex, was that Aringoth would be on the second floor, and the safe was in the basement.
The passage wasn’t much different from those in the Ratway; dim, foul-smelling, and full of skeevers and oil. She tossed a brief flame at the floor and waited for the racing blaze to die down, then followed the passage to a ladder at its far end. Lifting the hatch by inches, peering out cautiously, she found herself just outside the back door to Goldenglow Estate with no guards in the immediate area.
Dag crept to the corner of the house and peered around it, back across the water. The hives were still blazing, guards still flailing about trying to douse the fire. Good. Keep busy, boys. She crouched to unlock the door into the house and at that moment discovered what magic was in her new gloves; the lock gave way like soft butter to a hot knife. She was so surprised that for a moment she just looked at the gloves and marveled that they were actually hers. Then she slipped into the home and closed the door behind her.
The downstairs was well guarded, but not all of the guards were awake; hearty snores wafted from a closed room on the right side of the hallway ahead of her. The one alert guard she could see was sitting with his back to her, at the far end of an open room immediately to her right. Holding her breath, she slipped past its opening and down the hallway, which turned left at the end.
The room beyond was clear, but just past the opening at its far end was a guard lounging in a chair. The regular thud of footsteps on the wooden floor suggested at least one more guard patrolling up and down the hall. Dag crept diagonally through the room to an opening on the left. Damn, this place was a maze of major proportions.
Beyond the opening was a dining area, the remnants of a meal not yet cleared away. Dag stopped to listen for the footsteps and to snag a piece of crusty bread from a basket on the table. There was definitely at least one man walking back and forth in the hall.
Past the dining room, a short hallway revealed a cage door to her right and a set of stairs to her left. Good enough; she had at least found the entryway to her two objectives. She crouched, trying to breathe as quietly as possible, until the guard was walking away from her end of the hallway, then slipped up the steps to the second floor.
There was a lone guard seated outside the door to Aringoth’s bedroom, deeply engrossed in a book. Dag considered her options. She probably could use an invisibility potion to sneak past him, but if things got ugly with Aringoth, she would have him to deal with as well. Reluctantly, she drew her dagger and crept up behind him. A quick slash across the throat and it was done. She admired her own handiwork for a moment; it had been neat and tidy and and silent, and she felt a tingle of – not quite enjoyment. Pride, maybe? Dag hoped that the Guild’s no-killing policy didn’t apply to hired mercenaries, or she was going to be in foul odor with Brynjolf.
Aringoth’s door was locked but yielded to her pick as though it wasn’t. Dag frowned, scanning the room and seeing nobody. Ok, Aringoth, where are you? I need your key. At last she heard his breathing; the man was crouched just out of sight behind a dresser. All those guards, and he was hiding? What a coward. He must have spotted the flames outside and known someone was coming for him.
She had no illusions that she could convince him to give the key to her; she didn’t have Brynjolf’s skills or size. She also was not an accomplished pickpocket artist by any stretch of the imagination. There was nothing else for it, though. She inched toward him, holding her breath, and then reached into his pocket as carefully as she could.
He yelped. “What’s this?” Leaping to his feet, he drew a dagger and lunged at her.
Dag backed away from his blade. Damn it. “Give me the key to the safe, Aringoth,” she hissed, drawing her sword. “Nobody needs to get hurt here. Nobody wants you to get hurt. We just need what’s in the safe.”
“No!” he snarled. “I’m not about to let you ruin everything I’ve worked so hard for!” He came at her, slashing furiously; and he was a lot better at it than she expected. Damn it, I need another blade, she hissed to herself. Flames weren’t going to work here in the house; there were still guards to deal with and the smoke would have them on her in seconds. Aringoth, with a much lighter blade, was quick on his feet and able to get a lot closer to her than she liked. She dodged to the left to escape a lunge, but not quickly enough; she felt a searing pain in her neck and dropped into a crouch, panicking as blood ran down into her leathers. In desperation, she swung at his knees and caught them, hard, with the flat of her blade, knocking him back just enough that she had an opening and was able to run him through.
Dag gasped and reached for her neck wound, pressing against it to stop the bleeding. He had come perilously close to catching her jugular. Too close, she thought yet again, wincing as she applied every scrap of healing magic she could muster to her wound and downed a potion besides. But in the end, I’m alive. Thank the gods. She checked to be sure the bleeding had stopped while she waited for her heart to stop pounding.
Aringoth had two keys in his pockets but nothing else of great interest on him. Dag looked around the room for valuables. He had some bags of coin, which went into her pockets along with a number of loose jewels and some necklaces, but there wasn’t much else that caught her eye except for a small statue on his bedstand: a golden bee, a pretty thing that might be worth a few septims. She slipped that into a pouch and then made for the first floor.
She again waited for the guard to turn in his patrol, then used one of Aringoth’s keys to slip into the caged room. A ladder lead down to the cellar, into a large open room with storage shelves, crates, barrels and, in the far right corner, a table with two of Aringoth’s mercenaries seated at it. Directly across the room were closed double doors; she needed to get through them. Dag drew her bow and poisoned an arrow, but decided to take a shot at sneaking past the two men. One of them snored loudly just as she began moving; apparently night guard duty wasn’t very exciting. They never heard her pass.
Beyond the doors was yet another hallway. To the left, she found a very fat coin purse in a tiny antechamber. Mine, she thought, adding it to her own coffers. In the other direction, however, she ran into a problem. The hall doglegged to the left, down a long corridor, to a space with one more ladder leading down. That had to be her destination. Between her and it, though, sat one very large man with his back to her. There was no possibility she could sneak past him; she would be directly in his line of sight once reaching the ladder.
As far as she could tell, her options were to run at him with her sword and flame or try to get him with arrows. She was about to do the former when she smelled the familiar odor of oil; the floor was damp with it. Thank the gods nobody in this town knows how to clean up after themselves, she thought. How about Option Three? Nodding, she pulled her bow with its poisoned arrow and aimed. The guard grunted, wounded but not mortally, and turned to run for her. She sent fire toward the floor and watched it take him. As he panicked, and before he could scream, she finished him with a second arrow. She bolted for the ladder and slipped down it, needing to get out of the building before the other guards caught a whiff of burning oil and came to investigate.
The safe sat next to a locked chest. Dag knew she didn’t have a lot of time to spare but the call of that chest was too powerful; she picked it open and scooped up its contents. She would check the spoils later. With Aringoth’s other key, she opened the safe and pulled out an impressive amount of coin and a document. An other cage guarded an opening in the floor dropped down into the sewers, not far from where she had come in; she leapt down into it and scuttled away toward a torch-lit alcove. There she took a deep breath.
Three bodies. That was more dead than she’d hoped, and she hadn’t been able to keep Aringoth alive as Maven had wished, but at least she’d burned the hives and gotten the contents of the safe. She was sure the coin would be welcome, but the document… She opened it and held it near the light, squinting to read it. It was a bill of sale, identifying someone named Gajul-Lei as the agent transferring Goldenglow Estate from Aringoth to a third party identified only by an odd symbol, for a considerable fee. Brynjolf would want to see this. She tucked it into an oiled pouch and stowed that deep in her jacket.
She made her way back to the surface, then into the water. The cold felt good, washing the blood away from her as she swam back to Riften in the light of Goldenglow’s burning apiaries.