Northbound Pilgrimage II

Chapter LXVII - The Chosen

She perched atop the city wall, hidden by the golden leaves of the nearby trees.

Sun behind back, the man below couldn't see her even if he knew where to look. Only a couple more minutes. He was like clockwork. He couldn't take it for long before he needed another drink. She had him watched for days – he always left at the same times, thrice a day.

Only a couple more minutes before he left the garden.

That was where Sibbi's body was found. It almost seemed unbelievable.

Why would Mercer bury the evidence in his own backyard? Did he get sloppy? Was he in a rush? In panic? Or did he want to send a message? So risky, so short-sighted. But that was Mercer. Revenge was everything to him. She'd seen it firsthand – what he was capable of.

It only worked in her favor now. Reckless people slipped up sooner or later.

It was all within reach again, her old life, the favor she had lost. Everything would be right again.

But first, she needed to take care of this.

The man in the garden let out a sigh before he looked around himself conspicuously. Only a few seconds later, he started to make his way out of the gate and into the streets of Riften.

Fool. How has he not gotten punished yet for leaving his post? Was Mercer's authority in the city really waning?

There was not much time to ponder this. She needed to act. Only a few more seconds before the man disappeared behind the corner – her moment.

She jumped down from the wall deftly and snuck into the garden on swift feet. The man didn't even lock the gate behind him. How droll. But she knew that worse counter-measures awaited her inside.

One, two, three steps westward. The perfect spot. She reached down to her belt and unfastened the readied grappling hook with a rope fastened to it. Roof was the only access point. The blueprints had confirmed it.

She quickly looked around for good measure, but she knew that it was safe. It was not even midday yet – bright and early. But you don't steal from a thief at night. They expect it. They are prepared for it.

But a Nightingale can find a shadow in the brightest of rooms.

She swung the hook without delay and it lodged itself perfectly right behind the wooden beam lining the roof. Just as she had calculated. And with no one around the back gardens, there was no better time to seize the opportunity and climb up.

It didn't take her long at all to make it up on the roof. She quickly dislodged the grappling hook and pricked up her ears. She could hear the noise coming from the west – from around the marketplace. Almost noontime, everyone was there. For a meal, for a drink, for company. Oh how she missed it, walking the merry streets, hand in hand with Gallus. He loved Riften and he showed her all its beauties.

Mercer would pay for taking him from her.

Soon.

She crept across the roof towards the chimney. Careful. No missteps. Any of the roof tiles could come loose, but she knew how to keep her step light. And she had luck on her side, for now.

She would make sure that it did not run out.

The chimney was already in reach, but before she would enter it as stealthily as possible, she hid behind it and crouched down. Nobody could see her there. It was just for a second. She closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh of concentration.

Phase one hundred and thirteen. Check. Night Mistress, may my hands be deft and my feet swift. May I walk with shadows and never be seen. Empress of Murk, shroud me in darkness.