Online:The Year 2920, Vol. 16
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| ID | 632 | ||
| See Also | Lore version | ||
| Up | 2920: The Last Year of the First Era | ||
| Prev. | Volume 15 | Next | Volume 17 |
| Collection | Tales of Tamriel | ||
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It was the first time in seventeen years that the three members of the Morrowind Tribunal had met in the same place, since Sotha Sil had left for Artaeum. All three wished that the circumstances of their reunion were different.
"From what we've learned, while the Prince was returning to Cyrodiil to the south, a second Imperial Army came down from the north," said Vivec to his stony-faced compatriots. "It is reasonable to assume Juilek didn't know about the attack."
"But neither would it be unreasonable to suppose that he planned on being a distraction while the Emperor launched the attack on Black Gate," said Sotha Sil. "This must be considered a breach of the truce."
"Where is the Duke of Mournhold?" asked Vivec. "I would hear his thoughts on the matter."
"He is meeting with the Night Mother in Tel Aruhn," said Almalexia, quietly. "I told him to wait until he had spoken with you, but he said that the matter had waited long enough."
"He would involve the Morag Tong? In outside affairs?" Vivec shook his head, and looked to Sotha Sil: "Please, do what you can. Assassination will only move us backwards. This matter must be settled with diplomacy or battle."
The Night Mother met Sotha Sil in her salon, lit only by the moon. She was cruelly beautiful, dressed in a simple silk black robe and lounging across her divan. With a gesture, she dismissed her red-cloaked guards and offered the sorcerer some wine.
"You've only just missed your friend, the Duke," she whispered. "He was very unhappy, but I think we will solve his problem for him."
"Did he hire the Morag Tong to assassinate the Emperor?" asked Sotha Sil.
"You are straightforward, aren't you? That's good. I love plain-speaking men: it saves so much time. Of course, I cannot discuss with you what the Duke and I talked about," she smiled. "It would be bad for business."
"What if I were to offer you an equal amount of gold for you not to assassinate the Emperor?"
"The Morag Tong murders for the glory of Mephala and for profit," she said, speaking into her glass of wine. "We do not merely kill. That would be sacrilege. Once the Duke's gold has arrived in three day's time, we will do our end of the business. And I'm afraid we would not dream of entertaining a counter offer. Though we are a business as well as a religious order, we do not bow to supply and demand, Sotha Sil."
Sotha Sil had been watching the waters for two days now, waiting for a particular vessel, and now he saw it. A heavy ship with the flag of Mournhold. The sorcerer took the air and intercepted it before it reached harbor. A caul of flame erupted over his figure, disguising his voice and form into that of a Daedra.
"Abandon your ship!" he bellowed. "If you would not sink with it!"
In truth, Sotha Sil could have exploded the vessel with but a single ball of fire, but he chose to take his time, to give the crew a chance to dive off into the warm water. When he was certain there was no one living aboard, he focused his energy into a destructive wave that shook the air and water as it discharged. The ship and the Duke's payment to the Morag Tong sunk to the bottom of the Inner Sea.
"Night Mother," thought Sotha Sil, as he floated towards shore to alert the harbormaster that some sailors were in need of rescue. "Everyone bows to supply and demand."
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