Northbound Pilgrimage II

Chapter CXXI - A Killer Hostage

Author's Note:

Happy Holidays, everyone :)

I hope all of you who celebrate something this time of year are enjoying yourselves and that you're spending this time doing what you love. Like reading :D

Are you all ready for the culmination of this part of the plotline? It's going to be interesting in the following chapters and I have a fun one ready for the New Year's too.

Thank you all for still sticking around and reading and commenting and liking, voting and what have you. I appreciate all your support so much <3

Enough babbling though, let's get to the story.

I hope you'll enjoy it ;)

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Where were they?

Why was nobody barging in with weapons drawn? What happened? Where was Aeyrin?

If those fuckers did something to her, Bishop would strangle each and every one of them with his bare hands. He would beat them until he broke every single bone in their bodies.

Fuck, they wouldn't do anything bad to her, would they? They may have been insane assassins, but even they wouldn't kill the Dragonborn, right? They had to realize what it could mean. The dragons taking over the world would probably not be too good for the business.

And it made no sense. If something happened to her, it wouldn't stop the Penitus agents from coming for him. And they obviously weren't here. What happened? Where even was he? Maybe they couldn't get there fast enough. Maybe they had to keep a bigger distance from the assassins and it would take them a while. He should calm down. He wasn't in any immediate danger. He would only be in one once the other assassins returned.

But for now, he was just stuck here, with an insane jester staring at him with a disturbing grin on his face.

Maybe Bishop could take this guy out on his own. He was no longer outnumbered and it was just one tiny Imperial.

Though... granted, the jester was armed with a crossbow on his back and he might have known magic. Bishop only had his hunting knife hidden in his boot. He might get lucky and throw it. Or Cicero might kill him for trying. Would he kill the 'Listener' though?

Bishop really shouldn't get overconfident when he was alone like this, clearly with no backup. This was a trained assassin after all.

Was it though? Cicero didn't look like the rest of them – all menacing, somber and secretive in that black armor. He looked like he would draw stares everywhere and his manner was not that subtle either. More... deranged. He did kind of look like he just fell out of the Shivering Isles. People like that were often more dangerous than calculating killers. They were too unpredictable.

But maybe Bishop could spin it to his advantage. Maybe there was still a chance to learn more, to get some proper explanations. It was probably naïve to be hoping for clarity from this insane nitwit, but what else was there to do? He couldn't stand the disturbing silence and his cavalry was obviously nowhere to be found.

"So... where are w-..." he tried to speak to Cicero, but he was quickly cut short by a disturbing exuberant gasp.

"Tell me more about Mother's sweet words, Listener," Cicero was acting as if Bishop was actually going to do that. He had no intention of humoring this creep any longer. And besides, that was a fucking spike trap waiting to spring. He could say something that would ruin all the pretenses anytime.

"She's not saying anything," Bishop grumbled. "Look, just tell me where..."

"LIAR!" Cicero suddenly yelled angrily. What? Did he figure it out? What the fuck? "Liar, liar, liar, liar!" he continued to rant. "Sweet Mother was silent for so long. So long Cicero dreamed of this. She knows. She would never be silent again now. She would never do this to her poor Cicero."