When he emerged from the palace, night had fallen and the sky blazed down upon the Imperial City. He was tired, but he wanted a walk and a pint. He needed to think.
He was missing something. He had an idea what it might be, and that went well with the stroll and the ale.
In Anvil, where he was born, darkness brought quiet to the city; people went home or to the pubs and taverns, but the streets were pretty empty.
Not so here, at least not in the Market District, which was his destination. The streets were crowded with trinket vendors and soothsayers, self-styled prophets of any daedra or Divine imaginable. Women, mostly comely ones, stood outside of alehouses, flirting to attract business, and there were others of both genders and all races flirting to sell somewhat different wares. Beggars choked the edges of walkways, and little stalls were turning out the enticing smell of roasted oysters, fried cheese, bread, skewered meats, and burnt sugarcane.
People wandered in crowds, as if afraid the city would swallow them up if they found themselves alone for long.
The Crown’s Hammer was off the main thoroughfare, around a corner and almost hidden in an alley. It was a half-timbered building, very old. He pushed his way in the front door.
The barkeep was a withered old fellow who favored Colin with a nod.
“You’re having?” he asked as he cleaned a mug with a rag that looked slightly dirtier than the container it was wiping out.
“Ale,” Colin said.
The man nodded, held the glass under the tap of a wooden keg and filled it with a rich, dark red liquid.
Colin paid for the drink and then found a table in a corner. He took a seat where he could see the door, and sipped at the ale. It was strong, sweet, and had just a taste of juniper, a Colovian Highland style now popular throughout western Cyrodiil, but hard to find here in the East.
The place was nearly empty when he came in, but it was starting to fill up now, because the patrol and the soldiers were changing shifts. The Hammer catered to Colovians, and Colovians in this part of the world were mostly military.
So he wasn’t surprised when Nial Sextius walked in, noticed him, and grinned.
“Colin, lad,” he said. “It’s been an age.”
“It’s good to see you, Nial,” he replied. “I was hoping you would be in tonight. Have a seat—let me buy you a drink.”
“Well, fine, if I can have the next round.”
When they were both looking over foam, Nial cracked his knuckles and settled his elbows on the table. He was a big man, thick in every dimension, with a ruddy, wind-worn complexion that made him look older, although he and Colin were of an age.
“Where’ve you been?” he asked. “It’s almost two years. I thought you’d left town.”
“No, just very busy,” Colin said.
Nial wagged a finger at him. “Come to think of it, you were a little thin on why you’re all the way over here last time we talked. Distracted me with that story about my sister.”
“Yah,” Colin said, taking a drink. “I—ah, work in the palace.”
Nial’s eyes widened. “And don’t I, too?” he asked. “So why haven’t I seen trace of you?”
“I’m in a different part of the palace, I guess. In the tower.”
“Doing what? Making ladies’ dresses?”
“Studying,” he said. “In school, as it were.”
“In school? But that—” He stopped, rolled his eyes and took a drink. Then he lowered his voice. “Ah, Colin, you’re one of them—you’re a specter, aren’t you?”
“I serve the Empire, same as you,” Colin said.
“Not the same as me,” Nial disagreed. “Col, why?”
“They offered me a way up, Nial. A way so my mam doesn’t have to work herself to death. I’m sorry if that doesn’t make sense to you.”
“Now, don’t get your back up, scruff,” Nial said. “I’m just surprised, is all. I don’t fancy most of your fellows, but I’ll make an exception for you.”
“I don’t fancy some of my fellows,” Colin said. “But I don’t fancy being judged either. If the Emperor didn’t think we mattered, we wouldn’t exist.”
“Fine, like I said,” Nial said. His voice dropped even lower. “So, see here,” he said. “Maybe you’d know, then. Is all this true about Prince Attrebus?”
“I don’t know what you’ve heard.”
“Heard he finally got himself—and all of his guard—murdered.”
“It looks like that,” Colin said. “Did you know any of them?”
“Yeah, a few. I thought about applying a few years back, but I didn’t think I could handle it, you know?”
“The danger, you mean?”
Nial grunted out a laugh. “That’s funny,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“You mean you’re a specter, and you don’t know about the prince?”
“Not my field of expertise,” Colin said.
“Well, he was just for show, you know. Only he didn’t know it.”
Colin nodded. That fit with the picture forming in his head. So why hadn’t he been briefed about that before being sent to fetch the prince back?
“Well, he walked into a bit of danger this time,” Colin said.
“Yeah.”
“I wonder how? I mean, he must have been watched, if what you say is true.”
Nial thumped his glass on the table. “You’re prying me, aren’t you? In specting.”
Colin sighed. “It’s this, Nial,” he said. “I’m new to all of this. I think there’s something strange going on, and I’m not sure who to trust. Except you. I believe I can trust you.”