Sloan's Story part 52 - The Matron's Invitation
Entry posted by jfraser in Sloan's story
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The sun had dipped behind the Blue Palace and was nestling into its cloudy pillows across the bounds of the ocean by the time Sloan made her way to the docks. The city’s noise faded, replaced by the distant cry of gulls and the slap of water against the piers.
The warehouse was easy to find—a hulking shape of weathered wood and iron, its windows boarded over. Sloan studied it for a solid hour but saw no movement, so sign it had been used in years. She did not, of course, believe what she saw – she assumed she, herself, was being observed at that moment.
Finally, after weighing her options, she decided this was a time when the straightforward approach suited best. She moved from her spot, pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, then forced her legs to carry a gait of casual abandon as she made her way down the steps to the pier then along it lengths to the warehouse door.
The door was chained but the heavy lock was open. Sloan slipped inside, her footsteps muffled on the dust-covered floor. The air was thick with the scent of stale salt and old fish and shadows pooled in the corners. Sloan stepped away from the door and, with her back to the wall and waited, just to see if any surprises were ready to be sprung at that moment.. After a handful of seconds, she decided they hadn't left anything exciting at the entry and looked around.
The room was unlit. There were a few old crates and barrels here and there, just enough to provide cover is someone needed it. The only thing that felt out of place was a single lantern set atop two stacked crates in the center of the room. It stood out because it looked somewhat new and un-dust-covered, and a closer inspection revealed its oil reserves were full.
She still had some hours to go, so she made use of them, scouting every corner and crevice of the place, ready at any moment for a trap to be set off. But there was nothing of interest. Not a tripwire, a barbed latch, or even an explosive rune hidden beneath the thick layer of dust that covered the floor.
Sloan shrugged and lit the lamp on the assumption that whoever was going to join her would need it, then sat on a barrel just on the outside of the circle of light it provided and waited, feeling vaguely disappointed and unfulfilled. This had seemed the perfect time for the Brotherhood to test her, to see if she was aware of her surroundings and could take care of herself. Instead, it was just a boring old building.
Time stretched, each minute marked by the slow drip of water from a leaky roof, and Sloan wondered if the waiting was the true test. Although she had not been told to show up four hours early, so…
At last, the door creaked open and a figure stepped inside—a woman, tall and cloaked, her face partially obscured by the hood of her cloak. Sloan stood but kept her own hood up and her hands in sight and well away from her daggers – if this was Kira (and from the way she moved, Sloan was certain it was), a fight was the last thing Sloan wanted.
“Sloan.” There was no mistaking Kira’s voice. It was smooth as an adder and twice as dangerous. “You’re punctual. I can add that to my very small list of things I know about you.”
Sloan kept her posture relaxed, but her mind raced. No one else snuck in with Kira and tried to use what would have seemed to them to be the cover of darkness to circle Sloan. She was nearly 100% confident it was just the two of them. “Did you send for me to talk about my personal life?”
Kira’s lips curled in a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I sent for you discuss many things. First and foremost, debts…and opportunities.” Kira took a step into the light and lowered her hood, giving Sloan her first clear look at her face. If she had retained any doubts about her visitor’s identity, they were erased in an instant - Kira looked as cold and beautiful as ever.
Sloan turned her body incrementally to keep Kira centered in her view, but the Matron merely sat on a broken barrel, crossed her legs, and placed her hands on her knee, in the process somehow making the dusty warehouse feel like an elegant salon. After a moment, Sloan accepted the implied request and stepped further into the light herself, settling on a different barrel a little closer to the Matron.
Kira’s smile moved a little higher, cresting at the top of her delicate cheekbones. “Let’s begin with Grelod the Kind. She was a contract. A simple job, but important to the Brotherhood’s reputation. You killed her without sanction. That’s a problem.”
Sloan shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “She was a monster. I did the world a favor.”
Kira’s eyes narrowed. “You did yourself no favors. The Brotherhood doesn’t tolerate interference. Contracts are our lifeblood - when someone takes what’s ours, we bleed. And when we bleed…well, we get a little cross.”
Sloan felt the tension in the room coil tighter. “If you wanted payment, you could have sent a letter. This feels more like a reckoning.”
“Oh, it is. But Grelod was only the beginning. Or, I suppose, the end. Someone else came first, no?”
Sloan sighed. They knew, after all. Well, it probably hadn’t been too hard to connect Mishi’s murder to the girl who was supposed to be in the bed Mishi was found in, nor to connect the dots from there to the orphanage. In retrospect, Sloan should have seen this coming. “Mishi was trying to kill someone I needed alive. I had no choice.”
A pause as a very brief but definite blink of surprise crossed Kira’s face. “You know her name. Curious.” A pause, then, “Yes, Tihwen Black-Briar was contracted to be killed as well, although that contract was subsequently cancelled for unrelated reasons before we had to admit its failure to be satisfactorily concluded. You are lucky the Black-Briar family is filled with more politics than the rest of Tamriel combined – I will not demand recompense for him.”
“Very generous of you. But?”
Another smile, and this one almost reached Kira’s eyes. “But you stole one of our contracts and killed my finest assassin. You owe us.”
Sloan head tipped back and she let out a laugh, which made her hood shift back on her head an inch or two. “Of course I find myself indebted to you ag…what?”
Kira’s expression has shifted in an instant, from her usual cold façade to a keen stare that felt as if she was trying to peel away Sloan’s skin with her eyes. Sloan went on the defensive immediately, tightening her body as she shifted incrementally to her left so her right hand would have a clearer shot with her dagger, should it become necessary.
“Lower your hood.” Kira’s voice had flattened to a familiar tone of command, one that led to immediate obedience or swift death. Sloan reached up and pulled her hood off without hesitation and was rewarded with her second moment of the Matron being caught off guard as Kira let out a hiss.
Then a long silence as the two studied each other while Sloan’s heart pounded in uncertainty and Kira’s face melted back to an intense inscrutability.
Finally, Kira shook her head as she shifted her leg to the floor and bent forward, elbows on her thighs. “I suppose that explains things. And complicates them infinitely. Greetings, Trendil Shae. I see rumors of your demise were premature. What are you doing here? If you are trying to stay out of your mother’s sight, getting involved with the Brotherhood is an odd way to go about it. Or are you looking for protection?”
It took every bit of Sloan’s self-control not to react, although, of course, she was certain she had spilled some minute tells of her shock, just as the Matron had. She allowed silence to linger as her mind gave furious chase to this twist in the conversation.
Being Trendil brought with it instant credibility in this Skyrim and supplied a unique type of leverage that could be utilized in so many tantalizing ways.
On the other hand, that path was fraught with dangers, most notably the ubiquitous Melissa Shae, who would likely have an extreme reaction to the news her wayward daughter was not only alive but working for a different tong. It took only a few seconds for Sloan to decide the risk was not worth the possible benefits.
“I am aware I look like the late Trendil Shae, but I am not her. My name is Sloan and I have no connection to the Jatbûfî Tong.”
Yet another long silence as the two stared at each other, then Kira sighed and stood, so Sloan did as well.
“Very well. I’ll play your game, if that’s what this is. If you are truly not Trendil, the game will be the same. Just safer for all of us.
“Consider this an invitation to our home. In the southwest reaches of Skyrim, in the Pine Forest, you'll find the entrance to our Sanctuary. It's just beneath the road, hidden from view. When questioned by the Black Door, answer with the correct passphrase: ‘Silence, my brother.’ We shall discuss the repayment of your debt once you have arrived.”
Sloan gave Kira a acknowledging nod then stood still and watched her slip into the darkness beyond the range of the lantern. Only after the figure of the Matron passed through the warehouse doorway and another twenty minutes passed by did Sloan take a deep breath and leave the place herself.
As Sloan made her way through the quiet city streets, she gave brief flirtation to the idea of refusing the Matron’s “invitation,” but that path led to nothing but pain and a lot of death, likely including her own. No, for better or worse, she was back in Kira’s debt and employ. But at least she hadn’t had to be a whore first! Also, there would be no Mishi around to criticize every move Sloan made this time.
After all was said and done, this was an improvement over her previous life. All she had to do now was find a way to use it to help with the larger issue; no matter how powerful the Dark Brotherhood (or the Jatbûfî Tong, for that matter) on their own, they were nothing in the face of ten-thousand dragons...but they could be powerful allies in the fight.
Edited by jfraser
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