The Infernal city

“Happenstance. We were sightseeing. Hoping to run across a flock of greems. The lad here has never seen one.”

“Well, then,” the captain said. “You won’t mind us searching your packs.”

Sul gestured at their mounts. Four of the regulators strode over. It didn’t take them long to find the moon- sugar.

“Well, this is interesting,” the captain said.

Attrebus saw Sul’s shoulders relax, slightly.

Oh, Divines, he’s going to try it, Attrebus thought.

“Why is it interesting?” Attrebus blurted. “I paid a fair price for that.”

“Then surely you were warned about the penalties of trafficking with the wild cats.”

“There’s no trafficking here,” Attrebus said. “I’ve not offered to sell anything.”

Evernal rolled his eyes. “Oh, come now.”

Attrebus drew himself straighter. “No, you come now, Captain Evernal. Do you have a charge to make? Based on what evidence?”

“Evidence? I don’t need evidence,” Evernal said. “I know very well that you bought that sugar for these cats. Look around you—there’s no court involved. No witnesses.”

“I see. Then you’re bandits, plain and simple.”

“We’re regulators. We uphold the law.”

Attrebus snorted. “Do you even know what a contradiction is? You just as much as said you could murder us with impunity, and you specifically bragged there are no courts involved. You’re a common brigand, sir.”

Evernal reddened, but some of his men had uneasy expressions, which suggested he’d hit a nerve.

“Go,” Evernal finally said. “Leave the sugar.”

Attrebus felt his stomach unclench a bit. But then he saw the expression on Lesspa’s face.

“What about them?” he asked.

“I told you to go. Count your blessings and do it.”

“Come on,” Sul said.

But then Attrebus noticed something. He pushed away his uncertainties, pulled his center tight.

“No,” he said.

“No?” the captain repeated incredulously.

“Who do you think I am?” Attrebus thundered. “I know you by your Nibenese accent, Evernal. You may work for the thug who runs Rimmen, but your body and soul belong to the Empire. Who do you think I am?”

He saw Evernal waver and his eyes widen.

“Milord …”

“Wrong title,” Attrebus snapped. “Try again. My likeness is common enough, even here, I’m sure.”

The captain swallowed audibly. “My Prince,” he managed. “Your face is a bit bruised, and …”

“Is it?” Attrebus said. “I suppose that it is. And so you are to be forgiven for that. For that. But I do not care to have my business questioned or my escort detained.”

Evernal looked around at the Khajiit.

“Escort?”

“It is my business, Captain. We’ll be out of your territory in a day, and you’ll never see any of us here again.”

“It’s not that simple, highness—”

“It is,” Attrebus said. “Look around you. There are no courts here.”

Evernal sighed and stepped near. “I fought for your father,” he said. “I’ve heard much of you. But work has been scarce in Cyrodiil.”

Attrebus softened his tone. “Then you know in your heart what’s right. And you know my reputation. I’m on a mission of greatest gravity, and already I am too much delayed. Will you really let it be said that you hindered Prince Attrebus Mede?”

“No, Prince,” Evernal replied. “I would not.”

Attrebus clapped him on the shoulder. “Good man,” he said.

Evernal bowed, then beckoned to his men. In a few moments they were alone with the Khajiit.

“That was quite a gamble,” Sul said when they were gone. “Telling them who you were. What if they had decided to ransom you?”

Attrebus smiled, suddenly feeling a bit shaky.

“I saw he was wearing the badge of the eighteenth legion,” he said. “Just under his cloak, pinned next to a lock of some girl’s hair. I knew he’d not only fought for my father, but that he was still proud of it.”

Sul’s glare lessened a bit.

“You’re trembling,” he said.

Attrebus sat down on the ground. “Right,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “I didn’t really think. I’ve made so many speeches—and people cheered and followed my orders. But if all of that was a lie—”

“You sounded like a prince,” Sul assured him. “Confident, in command, imperious.”

“Yes, but if I had given it any thought …”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t,” Sul replied. “For Evernal, the tales about you are true. You acted the part, and where we might have died, we live.”

“Become who they think I am,” Attrebus muttered.

Lesspa was approaching, so he stood.

She regarded him silently for a moment, then scratched herself on the chin and reached over to scratch his.

“You brought it,” she said. “Another might have taken our money. And what you did just now—we are grateful.”

“You protected us,” Attrebus said. “I couldn’t do any less.”

She nodded. “Your words ring like music. You are really the prince?”

“I am.”

One of the tents was down, and the Khajiit were already folding it.

“We will be ready in less than an hour. I pray you wait.”

“You said you were going back west. I must go east.”

“They would have taken our kits and slain the old ones,” she said, “imprisoned the rest of us until we became city-ghosts, sniveling in the dust, begging for skooma. It was not your concern. You reached out from your interests to embrace ours. That is Sei’dar, an important thing to us.” She smiled. “Besides—you survive, you are Emperor, yes? That’s not a bad friend to have.”

East of Rimmen the land rose from the dust in a series of rolling ridges covered in brush and scrub oak, and eventually—as they ascended higher—timber.

The hills were swarming with Khajiit renegades organized around rough hill forts, but they kept their distance, which they certainly had Lesspa and her companions to thank for.

By noon the next day they were descending into the lower Niben Valley, and he was back in the Empire. It was like walking down into a cloud, so much wetter was the air of County Bravil than the Elsweyr steppes. Thick mats of fern and moss muffled their footsteps and a canopy of ash, oak, and cypress kept the sun from them.

It seemed to make Lesspa’s people nervous.

They reached the Green Road near sundown and made camp there.

“What now?” Sul asked.

Attrebus considered the road. Dusk was settling and the frogs in the marshes below were singing to Masser as it rose above the trees. Willows rustled in the evening breeze, and the jars and whills tested their voice against a forlorn owl. Fireflies winked up from the ferns.

“North takes me back home,” he said. “My father might listen to me now, give me troops.”

“Do you really think so?”

“No. The only thing that’s changed is that I lost the men and women he did trust me with. He’ll still think Umbriel is no immediate threat. He’ll put me in an extremely comfortable prison to make sure I