Rising to her feet, Viconia stretched and I could hear the way that her spine crunched. “As you two seem hells-bent on discussing theological matters, I need to stretch my legs.” Lightly, a hand trailed across my back as she moved past me towards the dirt track leading between the tents. “I won’t be long.”

  As the crunch of gravel made itself heard over the sounds of the tent village preparing for the night, I placed the vambraces down and reached for one of my pauldrons. “I wish I knew what we were supposed to do now that the relics are all gathered.” I said and Alexi picked up on my weary sigh.

  “I don’t think anyone, yourself included actually expected for all of them to be gathered in their entirety. Nothing like this has ever happened before.”

  “And yet here we sit, waiting with our thumbs in our arses waiting for… something. Divine intervention maybe?”

  “Stranger things have happened.” A half-filled jar of tallow rattled on the table as Alexi scooped out some onto a cloth and began buffing his leather under layers. “Something will happen though. Whether it be fate or whatever you like to call it, the entire Church of the Nine is seeking out the source of the attacks. Even if the Duke isn’t.”

  “No. He and the others are too interested in shaking down everyone in sight for septims.” I could feel the roughness of the polishing cloth under my fingertips as rubbed down the metal plate until it slowly began to shine a blueish-black tinge under the day’s dust and grime. “I don’t know how long I will be able to keep the other relics locked away.”

  “For as long as you have to.” He growled, dropping his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “Lose the key or something. At least we know that Jaeston’s wizard isn’t able to break into the vault and I don’t think any of them trust or like wizards enough…”

  In the deepening gloom a sudden shout of surprise and pain echoed, followed by a series of impressively loud curses. Alexi and I stopped in mid motion, staring off into the direction of where they had come from with mild apprehension even as his face curled in amusement.

  “Someone’s having a fun night.” He remarked, snorting under his breath before his face hardened at the unmistakable sound of breaking pottery and splintering wood as a young child began screaming and crying.

  What truly caught our attention and made us kick ourselves to our feet was he drawn out scream from what was undeniably a woman’s throat and one filled with nothing but fear.

  “Damn it, we left Vicky unattended again.”

  Snatching Sunchild from the table and nearly spilling the rest of the contents across the dusty soil, I gave Alexi a brief glance before moving in the direction of the commotion. “When have you ever heard Viconia scream?”

  His expression turned into his usual jovial one as though he was laughing at the entire world and everything in it and the smirk was almost a physical force. “Well… There was this one night where you two were sharing that tavern room next to mine…”

  “You know what I mean.” Quickly, and despite his attitude he and I were moving with purpose, shifting through the tent lines in the direction of the commotion while moving through the gaggle of curious and concerned people. The screaming had turned into a muted collection of sobs that only I could hear over the growing background noise and I didn’t need my vampirism to hear the child. It took us only a few seconds to move between the table and the tent that was the source of the commotion and it was obvious that Viconia was part of it.

  Bursting inside the tent we were greeted with a shambles; the handful of personal items scattered about where a crude table and set of shelves had been knocked over and broken and everything else in disarray. With nothing more than a swaying lantern hanging from the tent’s arch there was poor light but the size and shape of the tent itself ensured that anyone smaller than Falid could stand comfortably and have a surprising among of space to themselves. What it did provide us was a perfect sight to the others within the tent, a woman in her early to mid-thirties huddling on the wicker and straw cot that passed for her bed, cradling a young boy crying into her bosom and Viconia and a tall, well-built man standing nose to nose.

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  The woman who owned the tent was dishevelled, her hair ruffled and I could see the fresh, glowing redness of her cheek from where she had been struck and it was also obvious that her clothes had been ripped and damaged. In my eyes the evidence was already good enough for me to understand what happened, even if not for the fact that the man was literally caught with his pants down, aided by the fact that Viconia had a very determined, unwavering grip on certain parts of his anatomy.

  “Get help.” I said as simply and coldly as I could manage, glancing between the woman cradling her son and Alexi as he simply nodded and ducked back out of the tent. Viconia had an expression on her face that I had seen a few times before, and one of which was during the battle against the vampires of Glenvar. As for the man in the tent his face was a comical mix of shock and agony that only men could truly feel, especially how Viconia’s grip had left his body struggling to decide between folding at the knees or lifting itself into the sky on the tips of his toes. Judging by the awkwardness of his stance I guessed that it had decided to do both at the same time.

  “Viconia?”

  “He was raping her.”

  “I can see that.” Slowly, stepping closer to the two of them I made space for Alexi when he reappeared with one of the woman’s neighbours and a pair of sentries wearing the Red Diamond. “You stopped him?”

  “What does it look like?” her arm twitched and the man openly gaped, appearing as though he was attempting to make a noise but being utterly incapable of doing so at that moment. His eyes were flitting between mine and hers, unblinking and pleading with the two of us even as he went as pale as the fabric of the tent.

  “…right…” He forced out of his mouth without having the air in his lungs to expel. “…my…right…”

  “Loosen your grip Viconia.” I said, moving over to him and staring at his pained expression. Whether Viconia did or not didn’t seem to make any difference and I spared a glance to the woman who was now being comforted by her friend. “Your…right? Right to do what?”

  “…Servant…law…Knight…”

  Alexi began to laugh but started coughing in disgust instead. “You’ll find no ‘servants’ here. This woman, and the others are all freewomen. Imperial freewomen. Not servants or slaves.”

  “You are one of the Duke’s Knights?” I asked, my own voice growling with displeasure and he nodded, quickly and feverishly as though the confession would save him from Viconia’s attentions. “What’s the punishment for rape in Cyrodiil?”

  Stressing the name of the province I could feel everyone’s attentions on me but I ignored it, looking at the knights’ livery adorning his tunic and other discarded clothing. The honey yellow colour was enough to tell me that he was one of the Host of the Horn and it was more distressing that I wasn’t surprised at how it had been one of them responsible for this incident.

  “Three day’s in the stocks Sir.” Echoed a voice from outside the tent and I smiled grimly at Carodus’ voice. The retired centurion had a knack of appearing in such situations to the point where I suspected him of being able to spontaneously teleport.

  “The stocks it is then.” Through the pain on his face I saw the hint of anger and indignation at the punishment but Viconia’s grasp was unrelenting. “I’ll commission the carpenters in the morning, but until then, you can consider yourself under arrest.”

  As the pair of men-at-arms stepped forward I could see the burning hate in the knight’s eyes being directed full force at me and I knew that his realisation of being treated like a commoner was overcoming his pain of Viconia’s grip on his genitals. Seeing the expression, I gestured the men-at-arms to stop in place and instead smiled at him as though I was going to bite his throat out with my teeth.

  “That is of course, unless you would prefer me to leave your punishment to Madame DeVir…”

  One look into the cold yellow irises within arm’s length was enough to decide and there was a mild shaking of the head, accompanied by the groan of agony as she squeezed just that little bit more. Despite her appearance there was iron in her muscles and many people had underestimated her strength, but the disgraced knight now had very intimate knowledge of how easily she could have turned him into a eunuch.

  Without a single word, the pair of men-at-arms stepped over and caught him as she finally released her grip and let him fall. Judging by his expression it was obvious he was struggling to decide between passing out or throwing up, instead allowing the men-at-arm to loop their arms under his armpits while he grabbed at himself protectively. It took them very little time at all to drag him out through the flap in the tent to the waiting Carodus where the retired centurion took over things with all the experience he had to offer. It was however extremely very difficult not to smile when the whole tent suddenly shook to the sound of flesh striking wood, followed by a deadpan ‘mind your head, my lord’ from Carodus as the knight ‘accidently’ hit his head on a support beam.

  Sighing, and pressing my fingers into the bridge of my nose, I gave a quick look over the woman, her son and friend, to Viconia wiping her hand down the front of her tunic as though she had shifted through nightsoil to Alexi appearing downcast near the door.

  “The Duke is not going to be happy.” He said very quietly and I nodded in agreement.

  “I don’t think he’s ever happy.” With one last look to the trio of individuals on the cot, I turned and followed in the direction of the men-at-arms.