The door had opened into a narrow, but well-lit tunnel with no shadows into which she might dissolve. Dagnell froze, listening for movement ahead of her and desperately afraid of pursuit from behind, and held her breath. But as the moments ticked by, nothing happened. What she could hear was an Orc up ahead singing off-key about the nights on Stros M’Kai. She grinned in spite of her sadness. It was bad. He’d never out-sing Roggi.
Once she had maneuvered through the tunnel and out into the open, she saw that this was another water-filled cavern. There were more of the same racks of storage as in the warehouse, filled with goods. She could see boats, small ones, tied up alongside the wooden walkways but couldn’t see how they might have gotten here from the warehouse. Regardless, this is where Gulum-Ei had gone and she needed to find him.
There was no way for her to get past the singing Orc and his companion without an invisibility potion, and she had none. I could try to sneak past, she thought, but I’m guessing that by the time I get to that stairway they’ll have me within sword range. It was just too open and too bright.
Dag pulled out her bow, poisoned one of her best arrows, and took aim at the Orc. Whether it was that he hadn’t seen her, or that she had a particularly lucky shot, she couldn’t tell; but he grunted and fell to the ground.
“Huh?” the other guy yelped, running around the corner of the stacked crates with a one-handed mace high over his head. “There you are!” he yelled, dashing toward her.
Dag pulled her scimitars, blocking his first blow with the left and slashing at him with the right. The man staggered backward, but then came at her again, smashing the mace down into her left shoulder. It was all she could do not to cry out, but she was already afraid of having alerted the rest of the thugs in there and clamped her jaws shut to keep herself silent.
Once again, her relatively short stature proved to be useful. From the crouch she’d been forced into by the mace, she swung herself around in an arc and thrust with the right-handed scimitar, catching him just below the ribcage. With every bit of strength she had, she pulled the sword downward, its lethal edge slicing the man open. He started to scream, but she used her other sword to slash his throat, then stood panting as he dropped to the ground.
She stood there for a bit, shoulder aching, casting a heal spell on her arm, and just stared at what she’d done as the man drained into the dirt and curious flies began to gather. Wouldn’t you think I’d feel bad about doing something like that to a man? she thought idly. I mean look at it. I’ve made a mess of him.
She suddenly remembered the first time she’d killed a person. She hadn’t been very old, probably ten or eleven, and the man had been a great deal older. He’d wanted to touch her in ways she did not wish to be touched, and when he wouldn’t back off as she asked, she’d pulled out her original set of scimitars and slit the man’s throat with them. He hadn’t been expecting a little girl to have weapons like that or to know how to use them. He’d found out the hard way to pay attention. I don’t remember being especially distressed then, either, Dag thought, just interested in the color of the blood. How odd.
The path through this underground waterway snaked along the sides, following natural outcroppings where possible, occasionally crossing over the water on well-constructed rope and log bridges. Where there were wider ledges, there were cooking fires, chests, and even an occasional bedroll set up. Dag couldn’t tell what sort of people these were for certain but they definitely weren’t East Empire Company guards. Pirates, bandits, brigands, who knew; what was apparent was that she needed to avoid them.
The problem was that there was too much light and too many of them for her to do that. A few of the bandits were oblivious, and she rolled past them in what shadows there were; but on one corner there was a group of three standing around a cooking pot. One of them saw her, tossed an armor spell on herself, and shouted, “are you prepared to die?”
“Yep,” Dag muttered, “I surely am. But not today.” She got off one well-placed arrow that sank into the woman’s eye, then leapt down into the water and ducked under the nearby footbridge while the other two frothed and screamed at her. On the far side of the water was a small boulder that had just enough space for her to climb up on, enough of a platform from which to exchange fire with the screaming bandits. One of them was an archer, but was a terrible shot; a single arrow grazed the arm of her leathers but failed to penetrate it, and that was all. She scooped his arrows up from the water as they floated past and sent them back to him one after the next, as fast as she could draw. The precarious footing made her own aim less than ideal, but she eventually put him down. The remaining bandit was simply flailing about with his sword, screaming obscenities at her. She sighed, poisoned an arrow, and took him down with one lucky shot, thinking sadly of Roggi’s excellent work outside Cragslane Cavern.
There were several more bandits to be reckoned with at the end of the cavern, near what seemed to have been a dock at one time. Dag simply had to get out of the water; the cold was starting to affect her muscles. Her fingers would never be able to draw a bowstring. The nearest of them had his back to her; she crept up behind him, deciding to try a sneak attack. Gathering flames in her left hand as a backup, she flipped her scimitar and used it overhand, like a large dagger, stabbing the man almost through and through. That was disgusting, her sarcastic voice told her. Nicely done.
Dag didn’t have time to argue with herself, though; the two remaining bandits were rushing in from the back of the cavern. Without time to draw her second scimitar, she fired flames at the first man in line. Maybe she’d gotten better at it with practice, she didn’t know; but within a few moments a single sword blow finished him off. The second man was just far enough behind him that she was able to draw her left sword and use a dual attack on him. He was big, but he was clumsy. One of his swipes landed a slash on her arm, and this one did draw blood; but his swing had been so wildly uncontrolled that she was able to step into him and take him out with two tight slashes.
She stood and took a deep breath, shaking her head to clear it. At this far end of the cavern was a large area filled with shipping crates and chests, cages for dogs or other creatures, and one Argonian merchant cowering in the corner. She approached him slowly. Time to be intimidating, Dag, she thought.
“Please don’t hurt me! Don’t tell Mercer about this, I’ll tell you everything,” he pleaded, shivering in his huddle.
She frowned at him. Hope that is frightening enough. “So tell me again about the buyer of Goldenglow Estate and we’ll talk. Mercer doesn’t need to know.”
“Karliah! Her name is Karliah.”
“Am I supposed to know the significance of that?”
Gulum-Ei stood and gave her a look that she interpreted as astonishment.
“Mercer didn’t tell you about Karliah?”
Dag laughed to herself, but remained silent. Mercer, tell me anything of import? No, Mercer didn’t tell me.
“She’s the thief who murdered Gallus, the previous Guildmaster – and now she’s after Mercer.”
“Oh I see. And you’re helping her. Tell me again why I shouldn’t kill you, in that case. I’m sure they’d be willing to make an exception to the rules.” Oh that was very good, her other voice told her.
“No, no! I didn’t even know it was her until after she contacted me. Please. You have to believe me!” Gulum-Ei was sincerely distressed, that was clear. She did believe this part of his story, but she was not going to tell him so.
“No, I really don’t have to believe you, especially not after you lied to me earlier. I’ll give you another chance, though. Tell me where she is now.”
“I don’t know. When I asked her where she was going, she just said ‘where the end began.’ That’s all I know. Here, take the deed. It’s more trouble to me than it’s worth. She didn’t even want it. She wanted to keep the sale secret. I see how well that worked out.”
Gulum-Ei looked almost as though he was going to soil his clothing. “I know I’m worth more to Mercer alive than dead.”
He still thought she was going to kill him. How amusing. Dag pondered. Looking about her she could see that Brynjolf’s suspicions had been correct; the far end of this grotto was packed with goods and chests that probably contained more.
“Look at all of this fine merchandise, Gulum-Ei. I’m sure Mercer and Brynjolf would be happy to know about it. What’ll you give me to keep your secret?”
His eyes brightened. “Now you’re speaking my language. If you ever need anything fenced, let me know. Consider me your new friend in the north.”
Dag nodded. “That will do nicely. Oh, but be sure you get the Guild’s cut from the sale of all this to them, right away. I’d hate to need to change my mind. Mercer’s been, well, out of sorts lately.”
She couldn’t be sure, but it seemed as though Gulum-Ei turned a whiter shade of green.
She looked around at the goods he had stored nearby, but didn’t want to weigh herself down except with one or two fat coin purses. Those went into her pack along with the slightly damp East Empire Company map. Gulum-Ei showed her how to leave the grotto by means of a lever-operated opening at its rear. There were some annoyed horkers in the cave behind the grotto, but she slipped out past them into the light of day, well north of the main entrance to the East Empire Company warehouse.
She stretched and smiled, breathing in the crisp salt air once again.
“That went well.”
She started back toward Solitude. A good night’s sleep was required before her return trip.