{"id":1029,"date":"2021-08-16T18:39:11","date_gmt":"2021-08-17T00:39:11","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/baakay.com\/Snow\/?page_id=1029"},"modified":"2021-10-21T16:31:41","modified_gmt":"2021-10-21T22:31:41","slug":"chapter-17-interlude","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/baakay.com\/Snow\/volume-1\/part-ii-starlight\/chapter-17-interlude\/","title":{"rendered":"Chapter 17 – Interlude"},"content":{"rendered":"
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\"\"<\/p>\n

The rugged Redguard man peeled his eyes open, groaned, and slowly sat up on the unfortunate construction that was supposed to pass for a bed. He glanced over at the table nearby and saw that there was bread and cheese. That would be good. When he was ready to stand up, that is. Right at the moment, his head was pounding.<\/p>\n

Gods damn it. That was really stupid of me. I should know better than to try to pull off a job in that kind of condition. Wonder how long I\u2019ve been out this time?<\/em><\/p>\n

He was in the Riften Jail, upper level, sitting in a cell across the open balcony from the smarmy bastard who\u2019d gotten him into this mess in the first place. He looked across the jail and saw the man sneering at him.<\/p>\n

Yeah, yeah. I\u2019m not on a noble\u2019s bed with a cushy rug underfoot, and I\u2019m definitely not in a nice clean outfit, sipping wine and having a nice meal. You must be from money and power, friend, to have someone set you up like that even though you\u2019re in prison. I\u2019ve never had it that good, not in nearly fifty years of tryin\u2019.<\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

He was, in fact, in a set of ragged prison clothing. They\u2019d taken his armor and weapons and put them somewhere. He was a little hazy on the details of what had happened, if he was honest about it. He\u2019d been talking to a nervous man hanging about the entryway to the inn, who wanted someone to help him take possession of a horse he\u2019d bought but hadn\u2019t received. Something like that, anyway.<\/p>\n

He reached up and rubbed his eyes, which felt like someone had been rubbing them with sand. Ugh. Probably bloodshot all to Oblivion and back. You\u2019d think I\u2019d know better after all these years but I don\u2019t.<\/em><\/p>\n

Ok, I do, but I don\u2019t care. It\u2019s just a pain in the ass when I end up in jail. Again.<\/em><\/p>\n

He rubbed his forehead, trying to clear his mind. He\u2019d come here, to the prison, to talk to that smarmy asshole about the papers for the horse, found out the man didn\u2019t own the horse free and clear, and had agreed to look for the man\u2019s ex-fianc\u00e9 in exchange for information on how to get the horse. He had no intention of following up on that <\/em>ugly bit of business, any more than the bastard had intended to hand over the horse to its buyer. That girl was as good as dead if she was found, and he wasn\u2019t going to help anyone find her. Instead, he\u2019d headed out to do a quick job and earn some quick septims. He\u2019d gotten the horse ok, no problem there \u2013 led the big white stallion around the back of the lodge house to where the buyer was waiting, and turned it over. He hadn\u2019t been a thief and a brigand for nearly half a century for nothing.<\/p>\n

Then he\u2019d gone back to get the papers. They were as important to the deal as the actual horse, which he thought was a bit ridiculous. It was one of those things, though; powerful people valued the labels on their things, and it seemed that this horse was important in that way as well. But he\u2019d been drinking in the inn for several hours before all of it started and had decided, for reasons that escaped him now, that it would be a good idea to supplement that particular buzz with some of what had brought him to Riften in the first place.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m an idiot,\u201d he grumbled aloud.<\/p>\n

\u201cI heard that,\u201d the man across the way called out. \u201cAnd yes, you are. A stunningly perceptive observation on your part. I understand that Louis Letrush still doesn\u2019t have his horse. And you don\u2019t have your swords. But I still have Louis\u2019 money. That makes you, by any measure, an idiot.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Redguard just glowered at him. Letrush did<\/em> have the horse, just not the proof that it was a valuable stud. It wasn\u2019t worth the effort to argue. The truth of the matter was that he had muddled his head just enough that he\u2019d gotten sloppy and noisy trying to get into the house where the horse\u2019s papers were. Why the guards hadn\u2019t outright killed him was the thing that he was most confused about. They\u2019d just dragged his ass into town, stripped him of all his goods and tossed him in this cell to dry out overnight.<\/p>\n

Or longer.<\/em><\/p>\n

And of course I\u2019m sure they all enjoyed the fruits of my labor. Can\u2019t have contraband sitting around in the prisoner\u2019s belongings chest. Damn it.<\/em><\/p>\n

Well, it\u2019s not the first jail cell I\u2019ve wriggled out of and it probably won\u2019t be the last. Let\u2019s see what we have here.<\/em><\/p>\n

He heaved himself up off the cot and stretched, nodding at the guard who wandered by and gave him a suspicious look. It wasn\u2019t anything special, the food they\u2019d left on the table for him; but he\u2019d had much worse, and much less at times. He knew better than to turn up his nose at food when it was offered. That\u2019s why he still had decent mass and strength at his age in spite of being a not-quite-recovered addict.<\/p>\n

He walked slowly around his cell while he chewed on the slightly stale bread, examining every inch of the space for anything he might use. There were some clothes in a cabinet, and he chuckled at that.<\/p>\n

Why bother giving a guy access to clothes if you\u2019ve slapped him in rags? Dumb. <\/em><\/p>\n

There were the usual things. The bed was fastened tight to the floor, lighting provided not by loose torches \u2013 which could be used to start fires and create distractions \u2013 but by sconces permanently fastened to the walls. Sometimes people hired to orchestrate jailbreaks left lockpicks on the top of horizontal wall supports, or tucked behind wall hangings or even under the threadbare bedding on the cots; but he ran his hands over all those surfaces without finding anything. When he picked up what passed for a pillow, though, and tried folding it, he couldn\u2019t. He examined it closely and discovered a lone lockpick that had been forced into the fabric. He pulled it out, grinning, and hid it in the waistband of his clothes.<\/p>\n

Now then\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n

There probably wasn\u2019t much chance of getting out through the cell unarmed, even though he could probably pick the lock. In dire circumstances, he supposed, the chair could be broken and its legs used for rude weapons, but that was a stretch, and not something he wanted to risk doing.<\/p>\n

He finished his first circuit of the place and grabbed a slice of cheese. It was much more to the point than the bread had been, and he smiled as he started around the room again. Looking up, he noticed something he\u2019d missed before: an odd symbol scratched into the wall stud nearest the cot. It was a circle, with a vertical line running through it and a v beneath.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ll be damned. A Shadow mark. I\u2019ve heard about these but I didn\u2019t think they were still used. Wonder what it means\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n

That was what drew his attention to the ring in the wall.<\/p>\n

It was almost exactly the color of the stones surrounding it, and in the dim lighting it was easy to overlook. It might easily have just been another shadow cast by uneven construction. A slow grin broke across his face.<\/p>\n

It means \u201cthis way to the egress,\u201d if I\u2019m right.<\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

He turned to see where the guard was on his circuit and waited till he\u2019d passed and was out of the line of sight. Then he yanked on the ring. To his utter satisfaction, a section of wall \u2013 cleverly designed so as not to reveal a nice straight line like a door – pivoted on one edge and opened into a dirt-filled, downward-sloping tunnel entering part of the storm sewer. He didn\u2019t hesitate a second; instead, he bolted through the opening, past the shattered remnants of what had been a wooden cover to this opening.<\/p>\n

He doused the light from the torch on the left wall, and made a quick left into what turned out to be a dead end. The floor was full of soggy dirt and discarded items washed into the sewer over the years; one of the items was a sword stuck halfway down into the muck. It was rusty and dull, but it was better than his fists; so he grabbed it and doubled back down the sewers, past the escape hatch and around two corners to where the basement area butted up against the jail once more.<\/p>\n

There was a semicircular grate in the wall, its lower edge at just about his shoulder height. A quick peek at what he could see through it showed him everything he needed to know. This was the guard station and that chest sitting next to the grate was likely where his belongings were. After making certain that no guards were in the room at that moment, he jiggled the grate, which was not fastened well and dropped open at his touch. It was a simple matter at that stage to pick the chest\u2019s lock open and reach inside. As he had expected, his armor was there. So were his swords. But the bag holding a dozen or so bottles of what he\u2019d brought to Skyrim was gone.<\/p>\n

No wonder they aren\u2019t already after me. Probably can\u2019t see or hear at this point. I suppose it doesn\u2019t matter, if I think about it. Where\u2019s the proof I made that? It could have easily been stuff I stole.<\/em><\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t waste time getting equipped. Someone was bound to notice he was gone; and he needed to get out of the sewers. Dressing himself could wait a few more moments.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

The short corridor past the guard station ended in a flight of stairs down, past a skeever that caused him to make more noise than he\u2019d hoped to make, but for which he was happy to have found the rusty sword. Water was flowing down the walls and into what had been a lower room, based on the moldering furniture he could barely see through the murky water. But there was pursuit, now. He could hear movements and people talking up above and behind him. He scurried away in the darkness like a skeever himself, and dropped down into the covered drainage exit that emptied directly into Lake Honrich.<\/p>\n

The Redguard wasn\u2019t one to care much about how clean something was, but he was grateful for the fresh water of the lake after the muddy, smelly drainage inside the sewers. He swam far enough away from the city to disappear, and then happily peeled himself out of the prison clothes and into his own wet but otherwise undamaged armor. Shaking himself off, he turned back toward the city. If he was lucky, the man he\u2019d come to see would still be out and about. He jogged around to the eastern gate and ignored the stares of the guard posted there. If he didn\u2019t slow down or give the man a chance to react to his presence, he\u2019d be fine.<\/p>\n

Of course you know me, fool. But I have business to conduct.<\/em><\/p>\n

He made his way to the marketplace, and in the fading light saw the person he\u2019d been looking for. He was an older Nord, tall and solidly-built, packing away some large flasks underneath one of the market stalls. As the Redguard neared, he made some further judgments about the Nord.<\/p>\n

Older than me, but how much I can\u2019t tell. His face says he\u2019s had some rough times in his life; no wonder he has this side business. Something\u2019s got him rattled right at the moment, but I can work around that.<\/em><\/p>\n

He approached the man and cleared his throat.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, uh\u2026 you\u2019re Brynjolf, yes?\u201d<\/p>\n

The Nord looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. \u201cAnd who wants to know?\u201d<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

\u201cI do. The proverbial little bird told me that that there might be an opening for someone with a particular manufacturing skill set around here, and you were the guy to talk to about it.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Nord straightened up and stared at him, taking the same measure of him as he\u2019d just taken of the Nord. After a few moments, he nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere might be. And yes, I\u2019m Brynjolf. Tell you what. Find your way to the place in question and I\u2019ll join you after I\u2019ve had a chance to change. If you know what I\u2019m talking about and make it there in one piece, we\u2019ll talk more.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFair enough,\u201d the Redguard said. \u201cOh and just so we\u2019re on equal footing \u2013 my name\u2019s Coe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll see you later, then, Coe,\u201d Brynjolf said, turning to leave the marketplace.<\/p>\n

Coe rubbed his hands together. He was completely confident that he knew \u201cthe place in question\u201d and was looking forward to showing Brynjolf what he could do. He\u2019d spent some quality time there the previous day, before heading up to the inn to find trouble.<\/p>\n

He trotted back across the marketplace and down the stairs to the old canal. There was a cage-type door standing open, with a wooden door beyond; this, he knew, was the way to get to a tavern called the Ragged Flagon and the small market that surrounded it. His kind of people; his kind of place. But instead of turning left past the drawbridge, toward the Flagon, he continued straight through the room with the leaky ceiling and into a round chamber with roots growing straight down from ceiling to floor. There was a chopping block there in the center, and another cage door that led further into the sewers. He hadn\u2019t explored beyond that point except to peer down over the stairs. No, he was headed for the wooden door sunk deep into the shadowed wall, to the left of that exit.<\/p>\n

He pushed inside the smoky room and inhaled deeply, smiling. My kind of people; my kind of place<\/em>.<\/p>\n

\u201cOur Redguard friend is back for more, is he?\u201d the Khajiit woman seated on the floor greeted him.<\/p>\n

\u201cLater, Zarashi,\u201d Coe grinned. \u201cRight now I\u2019m here to wait for someone. I expect you know who.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf this someone has red hair and a scar, Khajiit does indeed know him. You are most welcome to wait.\u201d<\/p>\n

There was another Redguard there, seated at one of the small tables and surrounded by empty skooma bottles. His eyes were red and just barely open, and he was eating bread slowly, almost as though he wasn\u2019t aware of doing so. Coe grinned at him and sat down, wishing he could join the party but wanting to be as clear-headed as possible until business was finished.<\/p>\n

It didn\u2019t take too long \u2013 twenty minutes, perhaps. The door opened, and Brynjolf strolled in. He\u2019d changed into a set of dark armor \u2013 much more suitable for Riften at night, seems to me <\/em>\u2013 and moved like he owned the place.<\/p>\n

He probably does.<\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Brynjolf nodded to Zarashi and then stared pointedly at the other Redguard seated with Coe. Coe cleared his throat. The man finally took the hint and moved away, finding one of the empty bedrolls along the room\u2019s periphery and flopping down onto it.<\/p>\n

Coe chuckled, and pointed a thumb in the man\u2019s direction. \u201cAnother satisfied customer.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo here you are,\u201d Brynjolf said with a small smirk. \u201cAnd therefore I expect we understand each other as far as product to be manufactured is concerned.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course,\u201d Coe said, grinning. \u201cI heard some of the best was coming from this area. I\u2019d like to learn the recipe. I\u2019m a damned good cook myself, but there\u2019s something to be said for new horizons and I\u2019m ready for a more settled life than I\u2019ve been living. I\u2019m not a youngster hauling lines on a ship anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n

And there\u2019s more truth than fiction to that. Been on the move my whole life and on the run for thirty solid years. Lost my partner-in-crime at least twenty of those ago, and I\u2019m ready to stop running. Who knows how long I\u2019ve got left.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cYou understand I need to see for myself whether you\u2019re worth the risk and the pay,\u201d Brynjolf said, motioning for Coe to stand. \u201cFollow me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Coe nodded. If I\u2019m not worth the risk, I\u2019m a dead man walking. And he knows I wouldn\u2019t have come here if I wasn\u2019t worth it.<\/em> \u201cAnother test? Well, can\u2019t say as I blame you.\u201d<\/p>\n

He followed. It was back out the way he\u2019d come in, and all the way around the canal-level boardwalk to the stairs on the canal\u2019s north side. At the top of the stairs, Brynjolf pointed silently toward a small house leaning out over the lake. Coe nodded and followed him to the door and in. The place was well appointed, but looked disused.<\/p>\n

Brynjolf looked around, nodded, and blew some dust off the mantle. \u201cNobody lives here anymore,\u201d he said. \u201cIt\u2019s a shame, but too many eyes saw too many people come and go for too many years.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAhh,\u201d Coe said. \u201cOne of those situations. I understand. Too bad, though; looks like a nice house. So what can I do for you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Brynjolf pointed to an alchemy station at the back of the room. \u201cTime to show me what you\u2019ve got. I learned from one of the best, back when he used to live here.\u201d He frowned. \u201cDamndest thing. I met someone today who claims to be his son.\u201d He shook his head.<\/p>\n

Ah, so that\u2019s what has him rattled. Interesting. Realizing he\u2019s no spring chick anymore, I guess. That throws me off sometimes, too.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cIt doesn\u2019t matter,\u201d Brynjolf continued. \u201cI can\u2019t take on someone who can\u2019t equal the quality of what I can make myself. I had help for a time but\u2026 the habit has a way of killing people, one way or another. And demand is such that I can\u2019t do it all myself anymore. We\u2019ve been looking for someone who can do that.\u201d<\/p>\n

Coe nodded. \u201cThat\u2019s what the grapevine told me. Now before you even ask, let me reassure you. I\u2019ve been living with this habit for forty years and it hasn\u2019t killed me yet. Came close, back when I was a youngster, but you can see that\u2019s not the case anymore. I value my product and I make sure I\u2019m clear-headed when I make it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Brynjolf nodded. \u201cThat\u2019s good to know. I was going to ask, if you hadn\u2019t told me. Your eyes told me a lot about you. The man who taught me was\u2026 similarly afflicted. But never mind that. You should find supplies in the cabinet. Let\u2019s see what you can do.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir,\u201d Coe said, grinning at him. Gods-damned bloodshot eyes. At least he understands.<\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

It was quite a process, distilling moon sugar down to skooma. It was something he\u2019d learned as a way to keep himself supplied, back when he\u2019d been in danger of completely losing himself \u2013 and his life – to the habit. He\u2019d lost enough as it was: pride, friends, wealth, and even a measure of self-respect; but he\u2019d always been a survivor. He\u2019d finally cleaned himself up enough to work, and was careful to be at his best whenever he was cooking, because the ingredients were too expensive, and too hard to find, to waste. He bent over the table, now, as he\u2019d done a million times before, humming a nonsense tune to himself and giving himself over to the routine. At first he was aware of Brynjolf studying him intently. But Brynjolf did this, as well; he knew the routine. He wasn\u2019t a distraction after the first few minutes.<\/p>\n

At last he straightened up and stretched his back, pointing at the small bottle on the side of the bench.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere ya go. Coe\u2019s Special Blend. I hope it passes muster. It\u2019s better when it\u2019s aged a bit, but I expect you know that for yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n

Brynjolf smirked. \u201cIndeed. Well. Let\u2019s see.\u201d He picked up the bottle and downed it. Coe watched intently. A few moments later, he had to stifle the urge to laugh as a foolish grin spread across Brynjolf\u2019s face.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

\u201cShor\u2019s beard, lad!\u201d Brynjolf said. \u201cThat\u2019s potent.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTold ya.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell,\u201d Brynjolf said, clearing his throat and chuckling, \u201cassuming I can find our way back to the office, you\u2019re hired. This is at least as good as what I can make. Follow me. Again.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAlright,\u201d Coe said. It was odd, traipsing all over the city like this, but he\u2019d surely seen sketchier business practices in his day. And it did make sense to have a dedicated operation placed somewhere other than in a house where too many eyes had been watching for too long.<\/p>\n

He did notice Brynjolf weaving just a tiny bit once or twice, but he had to admire how well the man held himself together in spite of what he knew was an overpowering dose of skooma coursing through his veins at the moment. They walked almost all the way to the north gate and then turned down the alley along the city walls.<\/p>\n

\u201cHere\u2019s the thing about this,\u201d Brynjolf told him. \u201cIt\u2019s a bit of a test getting in. Traps. You\u2019ll want to be careful. We\u2019ve never had an off switch installed because we don\u2019t want people just wandering in. But it\u2019s not impossible if you just pay attention.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo I want to know why there were traps?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cProbably not.\u201d<\/p>\n

Coe chuckled. \u201cOk, then. Show me.\u201d<\/p>\n

They went through a darkened, slightly overgrown yard and up a set of steps to a ramp. The building was odd: it looked like the doors were all barricaded, and possibly the windows too. The only way in, as far as he could see, was the second-story door at the top of the ramp. Once they slipped inside and Brynjolf nodded to the two toughs guarding the second floor, Brynjolf led him to a bedroom.<\/p>\n

Oh? This could be fun. Wasn\u2019t expecting it, but you never know\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n

But the big Nord walked directly to a wardrobe on the far side of the room and pushed on its back panel, sliding it aside. Unsurprisingly, the space opened to a steep ladder-like staircase down.<\/p>\n

\u201cUp to you, once you get going, whether to have those two upstairs or not. We have guards because nobody\u2019s living here, and they know better than to go anywhere but the second floor. We\u2019ve\u2026 made that abundantly clear to them, over the years. Trust me, they don\u2019t break that rule.\u201d Coe knew better than to ask why, but expected that he could guess. By the time Brynjolf had finished speaking, they\u2019d arrived at the lowest level of the home, a storage room with a hole deliberately punched in the wall. It led back into\u2026<\/p>\n

\u201cThe Ratway?\u201d<\/p>\n

Brynjolf grinned. \u201cYes. The former owner of the house had this elaborate setup created and we\u2019ve just never changed it. Now here\u2019s where it gets a bit tricky. Hope my reflexes still work.\u201d He stopped for a moment and rubbed his eyes. Coe heard a rhythmic, raspy sound start up just around the corner.<\/p>\n

In front of them were two sets of razor-sharp, crescent-shaped blades on the end of pendulums. Between those was a swinging log trap that could easily bash a man\u2019s head in if he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.<\/p>\n

\u201cI see,\u201d he said slowly.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt looks worse than it is,\u201d Brynjolf told him. \u201cTime the first set and step into that alcove. Wait till the log is on its way back up and zip through the second set of blades. It\u2019s not hard, but it looks bad enough to keep most unwanteds off your back.\u201d<\/p>\n

He led the way through, effortlessly as far as Coe could tell. He was a bit nervous, himself; but it couldn\u2019t be much tougher than keeping your feet on a slippery deck in a bad storm, surely. And it wasn\u2019t, really, he discovered as he faded around the corner to the right just ahead of another drop of the blades.<\/p>\n

\u201cOk,\u201d he said. \u201cNot bad. Next?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFlame traps under pressure plates in the floor. Again it looks worse than it is. Only the plates with scorch marks have actual flame working. The others are all just red herrings. Follow the un-scorched path and you\u2019re home free. Or leap across.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe when I was twenty,\u201d Coe grumbled.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know what you mean,\u201d Brynjolf chuckled. \u201cOnce we\u2019re past this and avoid the really obvious pressure plate in the hallway, though, it\u2019s done.\u201d And he led the way through, trotting down the last hallway to a wooden door. He opened it up to reveal a small, but not cramped, lab. There were double distilling tables set up, chests with supplies, and even a table with equipment including a hookah.<\/p>\n

Gotta make sure the batch is good, I suppose. Quality sampling.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cSo what do you think?\u201d Brynjolf asked him.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Coe sat down in the single chair and looked around. \u201cYeah, this is a nice setup,\u201d he said. \u201cThe only thing is getting here.\u201d<\/p>\n

Brynjolf rubbed his chin. \u201cRight. The way out is close.\u201d He showed Coe the door leading to the drop-down into the sewers. \u201cDown there, and two doors to the right is the Ragged Flagon. It\u2019s quicker getting out. Getting back in, though\u2026 we should be able to rig something up. Let me think about this, assuming you don\u2019t mind running through the house a few times before it\u2019s done.\u201d<\/p>\n

Coe smirked. \u201cYou did this run every day for\u2026 how long?\u201d<\/p>\n

Brynjolf laughed. \u201cAt first I just \u2013 well, I used to be able to jump up this exit.\u201d<\/p>\n

In spite of having seen most things in his life, Coe was impressed. \u201cFrom down there? You jumped up? That\u2019s quite a leap!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI, uh\u2026 can\u2019t do it anymore. Yeah, I\u2019ve been making the trip through the house for years. So what do you say?\u201d<\/p>\n

Coe nodded. \u201cTell me the details. Oh, and I\u2019ll need to know where I should stay.\u201d<\/p>\n

They chatted for some time, and then Coe held out his hand to shake Brynjolf\u2019s. \u201cDeal. I\u2019ll get started right away.\u201d<\/p>\n

Brynjolf nodded. \u201cI thought right away that we were on the same wavelength, more or less. So, uh\u2026\u201d He fished into a pocket for a moment, and then tossed something through the air that Coe caught in surprise. \u201cKeys to Honeyside. That\u2019s the house we were in earlier. Nobody else is using it; you might as well, unless you\u2019d rather stay here. I have a place outside the city with my wife.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Coe smiled. \u201cAh. Married, are you? I wondered.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d Brynjolf smiled. \u201cTwo grown children. Once you get settled in I\u2019ll take you over to meet my wife. She\u2019s a Redguard, too.\u201d<\/p>\n

Coe laughed. I thought I caught a bit of \u201cI like Redguards\u201d from this man. Guess I was right. And maybe something else as well. I wonder if I\u2019m right about that, too. <\/em><\/p>\n

Guess we\u2019ll find out, eh?<\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

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 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Home Previous \/ Next   The rugged Redguard man peeled his eyes open, groaned, and slowly sat up on the unfortunate construction that was supposed to pass for a bed. He glanced over at the table nearby and saw that there was bread and cheese. That would be good. When he was ready to stand … <\/p>\n

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