Dark Brotherhood: Ancient Blood

Chapter 046: Busted

     Warm water splashed over Cicero's face startling him back to consciousness. He was lying on his back at the bottom of the stairs in the Ratway Vaults. It took a moment for his eyes to focus as the stream of water continued to trickle over his face. His senses began to return and the pain from the stab wound in his thigh burned and throbbed. Weakly, he lifted his hand to wipe his face when the pungent scent finally registered. It was urine.

   "Well, well, well. Lookie who's awake," a male voice echoed off the walls around him.

     Cicero gasped and spit, turning his face away from the stream of piss as his eyes began to burn. A lit torch moved closer illuminating his surroundings. Several silhouettes of Thieves Guild members stood around him. The one off to his left, the wood elf Niruin, whom Cicero had seen when first entering the cistern, was the pisser.

     Brynjolf handed the torch to another member and gestured to Niruin to 'put it away'. He did as he was told. Cicero gagged and continued to spit, wiping his face frantically. He could feel it in the back of his nose seeping into his throat. He attempted to throw up but merely dry heaved causing him to clench up as pain radiated through his leg.

     "Did Lady Jade do this to you?" Brynjolf asked as he stood over him, "She said you were dead. You don't look dead."

     When Cicero was finally able to catch his breath, he rolled his head back to look up at him. He inhaled sharply, refusing to reply. His body was incredibly weak from blood loss. 

     Brynjolf crouched beside him and leaned in to look the murderer in the eye.

     "You probably wish you were though, eh?" he said under his breath, "But fortunately for you, the Thieves Guild abides by the general rule of no murder. That's the job of the Brotherhood," he flicked Cicero's shoulder cuff with the faded symbol of the Black Hand imprinted on it, "You'd know that, though, wouldn't you?"

     Cicero remained still, trying to breathe through his mouth to avoid the stench of urine in his nose. He was anemic, but he was also emotionally drained. The combination of the blood loss, withdrawal from the essence of the Ebony Blade, and Jade's fuck-off speech had him barely holding on to the will to live. He didn't care what the guild had in store for him. Whatever it was, he surely deserved it.

     "Tell me, lad," Brynjolf said in a calm tone while staring him directly in the eye, "Why did you do it?"

     Cicero continued to breathe deeply and slowly through his teeth. He had no answer. Nothing he could say would help the situation. Whatever Jade told them was enough.

     Brynjolf waited a moment longer for a reply before standing back up and holding his hand out to someone just out of Cicero's peripheral. He was handed a long sword and stepped back over. Cicero's heart began to race when he realized that it was the Ebony Blade. Brynjolf pointed the sword down at him and placed the narrow tip at the base of Cicero's left nostril.

     "You don't have to answer," he turned the blade slightly causing him to flinch, "You will have plenty of time to reflect on your past transgressions in the Riften jail"

     As if on cue, a clattering of booted footsteps began to descend the stairs behind them. Cicero's eyes were fixated on the shaft of the blade as he wondered how steady Brynjolf's hand was.

     "You made a grave error spilling the blood of the guild, lad. We run this town. We control the goings-on. We may lurk in the shadows, but we have friends in high places... and these friends like order and justice," Brynjolf flicked his wrist slightly, slicing the corner of Cicero's nostril causing him to yelp in pain. He grabbed his face, covering his nose as the blade was handed over to one of the Riften guards whom had joined them.