Chapter 18

"Where is he?" Wellin said, deseperatly swinging in the doorway, barely able to hold back the assasins. At the other end of the small room, equally occupied, his back forced up against a door to keep it shut, Tor looked at the smith helplessly.
"I don't know!" he screamed, trying to stay alive. For the last minute or so their world had been nothing but anguish and chaos. At first the plan had seemed to work, but then there had been no shot. Shamus had abandoned them to their fate, and now they were trapped in the left row of houses, surrounded and hopelessly outnumbered. Tor blinked as a sword crashed through the door, inches from his head. He lept up, grabbed a table, and with all his might heaved it against the oak timbers. Across from him Wellin was cut badly across the scalp, but somehow was still managing to hold the door. Tor rushed over, ignoring for a moment the other door, driving his sword into the nearest assassin. At Wellin's feet there was a pile of bodies, and yet it barely seemed to stem the rush of killers.
"Damn him!" Tor screamed, ducking as a blade flashed near his side, twisting his body to avoid being impaled. "He's set us up! He wants the gold!"
Wellin said nothing, and continued his defensive thrusts, barely knowing how to fight, and yet knowing full well that their cause was lost.

"Quiet. I think we've lost 'em." Shamus hissed, pressed hard against Kiera's body in a dark cupboard. Their run had been as frantic, if not more so, than Tor and Wellin's. At first they had been hotly pursued by six men, but Shamus' scouting had given him good enough knowledge to slip through cracks and down passages. Kiera was exhausted, her chest heaving as she gasped for breath, somehow being able to keep up with Shamus' fast footwork without being dragged against the floor. Her dress was covered in the gleam of silver dust, and she looked at the bandit with admiration.
"Do you think we're..." safe, she began to whisper, before her mouth was suddenly grabbed and sealed by Shamus' dirty hand. She looked into his eyes, and saw that he was desperatly trying to listen from their hidden position. Silently, his other hand clutched his dagger as he listened to footsteps outside. The steps grew nearer. Kiera held her breath and her eyes grew wider as she strained to listen. The steps faded. She eased a sigh of relief. Shamus, too, let out a slow exhale, before looking at Kiera, her mouth still gagged. He stuck his tongue out and wiggled it at her, before realising his hand. She kicked him, hard, in the shin.
It took all of his resolve not to yell out in pain.

"I think this might be it." Wellin said, gulping as he backed away, Tor at his side. Both of them were cut and injured, their wounds seeping their lifes blood as they slowly staggered back. Their fight was almost spent, their skin a strange mixture of sweat and gore. The doorway was lost; there was just too many of them. Slowly their hands raised their swords as the assassins approached, gradually encircling the two friends, their blades poised for the final strikes. Tor drew in a breath, unsure if it would be his final one.
"It might be." he agreed, a slow tear trickling from each eye as he thought of how he'd failed his family.
"I hope I die well." Wellin murmoured, before looking at the waiting onslaught.

The room erupted in a crashing sound, filling with a choking dust that seemed to cloud everywhere. With a groan that would scare a mountain lion, Mungo came through the ceiling, his arms swinging wildly with a deep-set groan as he set into the assassins. Tor and Wellin looked at each other, and then charged forward to join their friend.

The room was full of the sound of clashing metal, above it all was the thunderous groans of Mungo and the battle cries of Wellin and Tor. Despite the early successes of the zombie, it was clear that Mungo too was over his head. So much so, that he promptly lost it to a swinging battleaxe, severing it and causing it to fly off to the corner of a room. The headless body continued to fight on, the arms swinging with a sickening swish. From his new position, Mungo tried to bite a few ankles. Through the dust Wellin continued to swing, watching as the zombie continued to recieve blow after blow, before he felt a hand tap his back. He turned. Tor was climbing out of a window. At first Wellin wanted to continue the fight, but then he thought on it. Even with Mungo, the odds were still too great. He nodded, and followed his friend. The last glance he caught as he left the room was the lumbering hulk of Mungo, on fire with magical flame, axes and swords buried deep in his flesh, collapse to the floor, finally brought to the grave.

"Listen, they don't know about the enchantment." Shamus said, looking out of the house window at the scene across the street. The search had stopped, and now all the assassins were focused on a house across the way. He watched as Mungo lumbered across the rooftops, grappling with a few assassins, before diving through the roof. He turned back to Kiera, indicating it was alright for her to come out of the cupboard.
"What's happening?"
"Mungo's helping them, but I don't think..." Shamus' voice trailed off as he watched Tor and Wellin leap out of the window, before allowing himself a wry smile. He didn't think they'd make it. Mungo would delay things, but they needed more help. "Look, you need to get to the Temple. That's where they're heading. Tell them...tell them that the weapons are enchanted. The enchantment is bound to something... wait! Of course!"
"What?" Kiera asked.
"Their weapons are bound to the deed! They have to destroy it!"
"But that deed is the key to our rights! My mine!"
Shamus paused, and looked at Kiera. "I know." he said, flatly. "Ack, what would I have done with twenty five thousand septims?" he asked, turning back to look at the girl. She looked back at him.
"A dowry?" she asked.
"Got drunk on the best Tamika vintage, more like."
"Not even... a dowry for me?"
Shamus closed his eyes, and walked forward to stroke her hair. He paused, looking at her, furrowing his brow, before looking away.
"Go. Keep to the shadows and you'll be alright." he said.
"What will you do?" she asked.
"Distract those blue ring pansies."
Kiera reached up and kissed the grizzled features of the bandit softly, tenderly touching his hand.
"Stay safe." she urged. Shamus grunted.
"Urgh. Whatever." he said, before rushing out of the house, his dagger drawn, screaming obscenities at all the assassins and their kin.

I knew it, we've got a romance here.
Oh, this does not look good. Please don't keep us waiting for the next update.

Prt 19

"Eight keys for eight locks, each one a bell,
Seven songs of fairness, one trembling death knell,
Open the Serpent, shift the wake, push forward to Bregale,
Slide the door as dark as night, do not heed the hail,
Eight bells to lift it high, eight to riches and glory,
Eight to purge the Blue Ring Tryst and end their dreadful story."

He couldn't believe it was almost over.

"Barricade the door!" Tor shouted as the burst inside. Wellin turned, heaving on the large wooden frame to seal it behind them. Screams were echoing outside in the cavern of Bregale, cries of definance that sounded almost like Shamus, steel on steel. Wellin heaved, pushing his battered, wounded and cut side against the door to slowly push it closed. At the last moment a figure slipped through, causing him to pause and look at her in relief.
"Kiera!" He said, finally closing the door and picking up the wooden barricade, pushing it on the door lock to close it behind the trio. Tor spun around to look at the girl.
"Kiera...how...what happened?" He stammered. The girl rushed towards him, looking at his wounds.
"The bow Shamus had melted... it was enchanted. They must have conjoured all their weapons."
"What? He..." Tor paused, suddenly feeling incredibly guilty. "he didn't betray us?"
"Betray you?" Kiera asked, her voice rising with fury. "He's out there at this moment, covering your entry! Fighting them all! Dying for you!" Her voice strained as her eyes flooded with hot, salty tears. Wellin finished with the door, and walked forward to touch her shoulder. She flinched, and his hand immediatly withdrew.
"I...we... thought that..."
"He thinks that there is a link between the deed and the enchantment. That you need to destroy it."
Tor and Wellin looked at each other. "Destroy it?" They asked in unison. To do so, they knew, would forfit the rights of the Dorians forever. The mine would fall on Imperial land. It would be the province of Elder Counsil.
Kiera nodded. "I know." she said, quietly.

There was a thud at the door that snapped them out of all their thoughts. Multiple thuds, more than one man. It wasn't Shamus. Quickly, they turned to the temple. Inside the building was a gilted mass of gleaming, shining silver. The walls were coated with precious stones, and upon the roof hung deep polished mushrooms that seemed out of place with everything else. Everywhere seemed to be richly and lavishly decorated, but no more so than the final pew. Where an altar should have been there was nothing more than a black door, a night-polished ebony, decorated with seven silver bells. They all looked at it and edged forward, barely able to speak. It was beautiful in it's ornate brilliance. Above it, in bold words of silver, marked a warning :

Whoever shall open this door shall be cursed and the legions of the fourteen planes of Oblivion shall stalk him forevermore.

Wellin paused. "Maybe we shouldn't..." Tor shook his head and smiled in reassurance.
"Do not heed the hail." he said, simply, reaching for his necklace and removing it. The eight bells hung down from his palm. "Do you see the mushrooms above us?" he asked. Wellin and Kiera looked up at the strange, dome-sprouted things.
"What of them?"
"They're for acoustics." Tor said, before his finger shot out into the air, and clipped one of the hanging bells.

The entire chamber echoed with the sound, forcing Wellin and Kiera to cover their ears. The sound was loud and overpowering, infinately more powerful than it should have been, a high pitched singing voice of angelic beauty yet devilish ferocity. They swallowed to keep their pressure equalised as they tried to mute the sound. Tor clipped another. And another. For every bell he run, one of the locks on the door seemed to break, the symbol of the bell to crack, and the Ebony door sway a little. Finally, he hit the seventh bell, wincing at the sound. The ebony door slid open, and his eyes focused on the prize. Rising from a pillar in the ground, the manuscript, the deed, appeared. He walked forward, and took it into his hand.
"Destroy it!" Kiera urged. Tor turned and smiled, watching as the assassins finally broke the door down and rushed into the temple. He understood now. He watched as they rushed forward with their enchanted weaponry, aiming to slay the three companions that remained.
"Destroy it before they kill us!" Wellin screamed. Tor looked at them both, watching as the assassins charged.
"No." he said. "There's a better way."

Great Story! I must say, you weaved your shorts together in a great way and the ending is quite epic. The moments when Tor and Wellin were surrounded in that house was truly desperate and I could feel the fear in their eyes. I'm also sorry for poor Mungo, he died a hero's death. I must say you are a brilliant writer and this is a great story. You left us waiting with the ending of the last chapter. Make us proud!

Prt 20

The room seemed to freeze with each beat of his heart, each pulse that draw it out a few microseconds longer. He could see all the way back to that first day on the road, the first day when he had left the smouldering ruins of his family home, the day when the bells and their meaning was lost upon him. He could see the present, the charging throngs of the assassins, making their way to slay them all. He could see Wellin, injured and beaten, looking at them, preparing to fight to the death. He could see Kiera and her eyes filled with hope and dispair, meaning to form lines of tears. And through it all the first lines of the riddle played in his mind.

Eight keys for eight locks, each one a bell,
Seven songs of fairness, one trembling death knell.

He looked at the final bell on his necklace, before smiling, and flicking it, oh so softly.

The entire room filled with an epic roar, the sound waves reverberating through their bodies as they felt the awesome power of the tiny bell, meeting to perfection the designed acoustics to cause the sound to amplify and increase, developing into a bellowing, blowing rage of pure noise. Everyone, even Tor, found themselves collapsing under it. The wave expanded out, blasting Wellin and Kiera to the ground, sending the assassins flying backwards towards the door as the very foundations of the temple began to crack and splinter, the silver and jewels reigning down as the soundwave reached the very foundations, shattering them with a perfectly chosen note. The pillars began to crumble and fall, collapsing onto the assassins as they screamed, their voices drowned out by the powerful, overriding thunder of the sound.

Somehow Tor was able to open his eyes and watch the devestation, the cracks form, the roof split and shower, the silver rising up in clouds, the design of the entire cavern disintegrate. He watched with a quiet smile as he watched the dust rise and shower him as the vibration swirled around them, passing all with it's terrible sound. Around the Temple everything had collapsed, as had the very roof of the cavern, pouring in the brilliant sunlight that graced Cyrodiil, revealing the clear canopy of the morning light, peircing the darkness of dust and death. Then he felt something hit him, and his eyes closed.

Something wet passed across his lips, and he coughed, spluttering up water and dust in his lungs. He opened his eyelids slowly, focusing somehow on the bright skies above his head, and the face of Kiera, smiling above him. Her eyes were raw with dust and tears, trails where she had cried. He sat up and refocused.

They were in a massive crater, the walls a circular implosion, the sides draped in silver and rubble, dust and rock. Occasionally an upreached hand of an assassin, futily trying to scramble to safety, was immortalised forever where they had fallen. And in the centre, surrounded by the disasterous scene, Tor lay, with Kiera and Wellin looking down at him. He smiled, sitting up and groaning, stiff and sore, before reaching and handing the clutched deed to Kiera.
"This is yours." he said, smiling. Kiera smiled back, managing a laugh.
"Are you alright?" Wellin asked, brushing some of the dust off his face. He was covered from head to toe in brown and silver, yet somehow he had a smile on his face. He was glad it was over. Tor nodded.
"I am." he said, climbing to his feet and looking about. Beyond the crater there was nothing but greenery and forest, and a few horses. He turned, looking at three soldiers who had arrived on the scene. Wellin nodded to them.
"Imperial Legion. Apparently the noise of...this place... was heard as far as the Imperial City. They came to see what the source was. I've... I've told them everything."
"Good." Tor said, coughing slightly and looking about. "Did any of them..."
"Make it?" The Imperial Legionnaire asked, stepping forward. "A few. Dazed and confused; we've taken them all into custody, on the instruction of Lady Dorian."
"They understand the situation." Kiera said, reassuringly, tightening her hand on the deed.
"Shamus?" Tor asked. She closed her eyes, the tears coming down once more, sinking to her knees.
"We heard reports you were travelling with a bandit." The legionnarie said. "It doesn't appear that he survived."

Tor nodded slowly, drawing Kiera closer and tightening his grip, allowing her to drain her flood of emotions. Even Wellin looked a little sad.
"He saved us." he said, simply.

The legionnaires left ten minutes later, riding to report the situation. Tor watched them go, before turning to the others.
"Well, you have... a silver mine." He said to Kiera. She nodded.
"My family does, at least. And you each have twenty five thousand septims."
"Twenty..." Wellin's voice trailed off, thinking on it. "You know, I think I might be able to set up my own forge for that." Tor smiled.
"Do you need an assistant? I... I never thought about what I would do afterwards, and now... now I've got my justice, I guess..."
Wellin shook his head. "I don't need an assistant."
"Oh.." Tor said, before he saw the smile Wellin wore, displaying his contentment.
"I need a partner. Fifty thousand Septims will get us a good forge." he said. Wellin offered his hand. Tor seized it and shook, grinning the smile of a man that had finally found true happiness.

"Thirty Three thousand, three hundred and thirty three Septims." A voice corrected as they all turned to watch as he staggered toward them. Their mouths dropped as they watched the figure approach, covered in dust and blood, his face scared, his arms slashed, his clothes in tatters. "I gets my share still."
"Shamus?" Tor said, walking towards the apperition. "I thought..."
"That I were dead?" the bandit scowled, hobbling towards them. "It takes more than being hunted by twenty psychos and a rockfall to kill me."

The figure walked past Wellin and Tor, ignoring them, enraptured with another, his eyes only for Kiera. Somehow she turned, her face a mix of suprise, anxiety, and disbelief. Gradually her features turned to a smile, before the emotion erupted on her face and she clutched the wounded figure tightly, wrapping herself around him, her lips meeting his with unrestrained passion. Shamus dropped his dagger and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up and returning the kiss with passion, before finally detaching and looking deeply into her eyes.
"You know," he said, "being dead might suit me well. My bounty vanishes, I get a clean record... I think I might stay that way, if it's alright by you. Get a new life."
Kiera smiled playfully. "You know, I've been looking for another stableboy...one that I can romance to annoy my mother, you understand. Not for any pretentions of love, of course." Shamus looked into her gleaming eyes.

"Wouldn't I be outstanding in that capacity?" he asked, smiling in return, before returning to kiss her waiting lips.

THE END

Outstanding! A brilliant end to a great story! I thought Shamus died, but was surprised to see he actually lived. You are a great writer! I liked it how Tor and Wellin got together to make their own forge. Great ending to the story. I hope you'll write more great stories like this one. I can only say one thing: BRAVO!

Same thing Griff said, this was great.
Loved to see that Shamus survived, I loved his attitude.

Stupendous!! Bravo!!

A truly amazing story here Foster, it was interesting and had a well designed plot until the very end with the perfect mix of action, drama, and comedy in every chapter. You ended it very well and kept it extremely interesting all the way through with a little bit of something for everyone.

I'm sad that it had to end, I read through all of it and couldn't stop until I read the last of it. That said, wonderful work Foster, this story was a must read and I'm glad you chose to put it here.

Well, glad you all liked it. Now I better concentrate my literary efforts on this 30 page research project I've got to finish. I might do something after that.

I just love a happy ending