On His Mane's Secret Service
Chapter 6

It took hours before Ra’Jirra and Em were called to the private audience with the Mane. During that time, Em had introduced her to so many dignitaries and Royal personages that her mind had gone numb with the names and titles. Of course the main topic of conversation that she had to endure was her underwear, but she’d expected that. Some did not approve of course, but since the Mane had obviously approved they were in the minority - at least publicly in this setting.

“So, what do you think, Em?” she asked her former boss when they managed to get some time to themselves.

“Well, I suppose since I am no longer your superior, I’d have to ask if you knew the potential consequences of that. You took an awful risk, Ra’Jirra, just to make a point. I know you didn’t do it for modesty’s sake. You’ve never had a problem with that before!”

“I knew the risk, Em. I just… well, to be honest I was scared. Intimidated at least. And when I get scared, I hit back, you know?”

“That’s what I thought. Classic Ra’Jirra,” he said, taking a sip from his drink. “We’re going to miss you, Raj.”

“Miss me? Hell, I was never at HQ for more than a few days.”

And then a Cathay in a formal outfit approached them and informed them that the Mane was ready to receive them.

“No protocol to worry about anymore, right?” Ra’Jirra asked Em, and he took her hand in his as they followed the man to the Mane’s private suite.

“No. From here on we’re all equals. Maintain respect, of course, but no protocols to worry about.”

The room they were escorted into was not large, and was draped in soft red velvet. The floor was carpeted, and fixtures in a dark wood were abundant. It was a room designed for comfort - or at least the male vision of what comfort was. A faint smell of tobacco seemed embedded into the room’s wood. She liked it. Somehow she felt like she was being allowed into an all-boy’s club.

Within, the Mane sat with the older Khajiit to his right and a concubine on his left. Once their escort had left, these were the only people in the room.

“Ah, Em! Glad to see you again!” the older khajiit said, rising from his seat, as did the Mane and the concubine, who added, “And Agent Ra’Jirra! What a bold one you are!”

Ra’Jirra looked down at herself then back to the concubine, who was dressed similarly but without the scandalous underwear. “Thank you…”

“Oh, my name is Isdra. I’m the Mane’s top concubine and confidant. He likes to have me in for important meetings.”

“Well thank you, Isdra.”

Suddenly the deep baritone voice of the Mane joined in, “Ra’Jirra, I presume?”

She turned to look up at him. To say he towered over her wouldn’t be correct, their size difference wasn’t that great now that the intimidation factor of the Throne Room and all of it’s inherent impressiveness was gone. But he was even taller than Em and was still somewhat intimidating - not least of which because his genitalia was closer to her than his head. It took a force of will to keep from glancing at it.

“I am, your Grace. But… what am I to call you? I can’t just call you ‘Mr. Mane’ can I?”

“No, no no. Here, just call me Devline. And it’s time we let you in on a little secret, Ra’Jirra…”

“Oh?”

The big head leaned down, his breath tickling her ear, and whispered in a voice that would carry across the Great Hall.

“I’m not really the Mane.”

Here eyes grew wide and she looked up at him as he straightened up.

“You’re not?”

“Nope. That’s the Mane over there,” he said, shaking his head and indicating the graying khajiit engaged in talking with Em.

“Really?” Ra’Jirra said, looking for confirmation from Isdra, who nodded back.

“Yup, that’s the Mane. I’m more of a figurehead really. But they think someday I may become the real Mane, after he retires. So I attend all the important meetings like this, so I can learn his ways. And sometimes we don’t tell them.”

Ra’Jirra’s world was shaken. She looked back at the khajiit that was talking to Em. He wasn’t even a Cathay! He was a Suthay-Raht. The leader of the khajiit nation of Elsweyr was a Suthay-Raht?!

But Isdra was continuing, “Yes, Ra’Jirra. It’s a subterfuge that’s been going on for centuries though. The Mane must always be represented as a strong, virile Cathay-Raht male, but behind the scenes, the real Mane can be any khajiit. I’ll show you a gallery of past Manes later if you’d like. They’re not even all male!”

“I…” she began, trying to understand the revelation she was hearing and unable to form the words to respond.

A hand touched her back lightly, and she turned to look at the Mane. The real Mane.

“Hello, Ra’Jirra,” came the gruff voice. “It is nice to meet you in person finally. I’ve been following your exploits for years, you know.”

“I…,” she stammered, “I… your Grace?”

“Oh,” he said with a chuckle. “That right. You wouldn’t know yet. We don’t reveal that little secret unless warranted. But just call me Mr. McTavish. It’s a little joke, but it’s been going on so long I rather like the name now.”

“McTavish?” she repeated, looking up to Em, who nodded back.

“Well, we’ve not got all day and there’s much to discuss, Ra’Jirra. Come, sit beside me here. About this Dominion meeting. Tell me all about it.”

“Surely you’re not thinking of actually meeting with him?” she said, recalling why she was here.

“Oh, we’re definitely considering it,” said Isdra, and Ra’Jirra was immediately aware that this woman was far more than a dalliance for the Mane. She was his closest adviser.

“But, they’re the Dominion!” she spat back, despite herself.

“Yes, and they hold the ear of nearly all the Mer in Tamriel,” the Mane pointed out. “I’ve read the official report from you, Ra’Jirra. But I want you to tell me in your own words. Start with the Argonia incident, please. It’s important to me that I hear it from you directly.”

And so Ra’Jirra brought the Mane up to date on her dealings with the Dominion. Though he interrupted to ask some questions, as did Isdra and Em for that matter, for the most part the meeting was her telling them what had happened.

“…and that’s it. They let me go and I returned to the ship,” she concluded.

The Mane stood and began to pace, deep in thought.

“They will have an angle,” Isdra said to him. “Somehow this will have to improve the lot of the Altmer and the Dominion.”

“Undoubtedly,” he said. “But that doesn’t make them wrong.”

He stopped in front of Ra’Jirra and looked at her directly. “Does it?”

She look him in the eye. “No, it doesn’t.”

He nodded and resumed his pacing. “What about this ‘Histess’? What do we know about that?”

“There have long been rumors of a leader of the Argonians, but their insistence that they have no ruler but the Hist trees themselves would argue against it.”

“Yet the Dominion not only tells us she exists, but also that she will attend this meeting as well. Could it be a ruse? What would the Dominion have to gain?”

“I can’t see it,” Em replied.

“Nor can I,” the Mane agreed. “No, I think she is real. She may not be the leader of the Argonians in our sense of the term, but it sounds like she may be able to sway the Argonians anyway.”

“Perhaps she speaks with the Hist directly?” Devline’s deep voice interjected, and Ra’Jirra was glad to understand that his presence wasn’t simply as a figurehead. He was more than just a pretty body.

“That would make sense,” Em agreed. “Perhaps she doesn’t make decisions, but she may be an emissary to the Hist.”

Ra’Jirra was getting angry as it became clear that this meeting was going to take place. Finally she could stand it no longer.

“Dammit, all of you! This is the DOMINION! They want this meeting to happen! Why are you even considering it?!”

“Ra’Jirra,” the Mane said, putting a hand on her shoulder and lowering her back into her chair. “The Dominion are ruthless and always seeking a path that improves their lot. But this future they showed you… It’s not a trick. It’s real.”

“Real?”

“We are not totally without magic users ourselves, you know, Ra’Jirra. We have seen this future decades ago. Our race is doomed, Ra’Jirra. In fact, we do not believe the Dominion’s plans would change this destiny either. But a gathering of the Mer, Khajiit and Argonians together - that is a thing we had not considered.”

Ra’Jirra’s spirit fell as his words sunk in. Doomed. The khajiit race is doomed.

But the Mane continued…

“Still, the Dominion is not to be trusted. We’ll need someone who knows them at the meeting. You, Ra’Jirra. You will attend.”

“But, Sir,” Devline interrupted, “How can she attend? Surely attendees on a meeting like this would be limited to only the closest of confidants and advisers! We would demand it of them.”

“Three, in fact,” the Mane said, continuing to pace. “Each contingent will have three members only for the real meeting. It is traditional. But yes, it is a problem.”

With the last words, he’d stopped before Ra’Jirra again and she looked up at him.

Beside her, Isdra spoke up, “She must become your concubine.”

“That would be the traditional way to get a female khajiit into such a meeting,” Devline agreed.

“What do you think, Ra’Jirra? Want to join my harem? I’m afraid it’s a lifetime assignment though.” the old khajiit smiled.

Suddenly Ra’Jirra’s mind leaped to Dar’Amon. He was really not going to like this.

“As my Mane wishes,” she said, bowing her head and reciting an old, schooltime phrase of patriotism, “so do I submit.”