Chapter 14

She had just time enough to yell a reminder, “SILENCE WARD!” to Isdra before she was knocked to the floor. The guards wouldn’t be coming from the Prime Concubine’s scream alone.

But when it came, the impact wasn’t from the direction of the Altmer. It had come from the Histess, who had barrelled her aside at the last second. She was knocked to the ground behind the Manes chair. The Mane was on the floor between the chairs now, wisely staying out of the line of sight.

Ra’Jirra looked at where the Argonian lay, the blue glow still sparking around Quill-Weavels inert body, but she had no time at all to react to that. Isdra had left the Mane and was running towards the door as Ra’Jirra stood back up. The Dunmer was casting some spell of his own, but he seemed to be directing it at the two Altmer.

The other two argonians were not idle either. Both were attacking the female Altmer who had actually cast the shock spell that had downed the Histess. Their full feral fury was unleashed on the doomed Altmer, but Number One’s hands were still glowing with unused power and she realized too late that he was just biding his time until she had risen.

His eyes were focused on hers, and she saw a faint smile on his face. The screams of the Argonians as they pounced on his partner and her answering screams of horror drowned out his words, but she could read his lips.

“Goodbye Ra’Jirra,”

And then a blue beam even stronger than that which had downed Quill-Weave leaped from his hands and struck her full on the chest, instantly vaporizing a huge hole in the Raba as it threw her across the room - the once beautiful beads scattering as the symbolic Raba jewelry shattered. As she fainted from the blast, her last thoughts were of watching them skitter across the floor. They’d been so pretty.

She should, by all rights, have been killed outright - not just knocked temporarily unconscious. But the skin-tight bodysuit she wore had held a small surprise of its own. On an intuition, she had spun a protection ward into it the previous night. The ward was a small thing - she was no mage - but she had been taught by mages when warding the Argonian embassy, and she didn’t forget.

The ward shattered instantly upon impact of the powerful blast, but it hadn’t been made to last - just to deflect such attacks once. The bodysuit, along with her fur, remained intact. She awoke a few minutes later, clarity returning slowly. She tried to understand what had happened in the intervening moments while she’d been out, so she played dead while peeking through her eyelids. A commotion was happening on the far side of the room, but she didn’t see any threat immediately, so she crept back towards the table. The Mane was no longer visible, but she heard his commanding voice. In her dazed state, she couldn’t work out the words, but it didn’t sound like fear, and that had to be good.

Quill-Weave still lay prone, and she feared the worst for her, but it would do little good to get herself killed after the Argonian’s self-sacrifice.

Finally, when no immediate threat appeared, she risked a look around the side of the table.

It took a moment to understand what she was seeing, but then clarity came. Number One and his Dunmer mage stood defiantly at the doorway, encased in a purple-hued transparent dome, obviously being maintained by the Dunmer. Khajiit guards, as well as the two bloody-mawed Argonians, threatened them at close range but could not penetrate the dome. Apparently Number One’s offensive magic couldn’t penetrate it either because he wasn’t wielding any. But the two were walking from the room haughtily, as if their lives weren’t in immediate peril should the dome be breached. Isdra was yelling at the Mane to get away from them, but he was apparently not paying her heed now.

She thought for a moment of revealing herself to Number One - to let him know that she had not been killed, as he must suppose. But on reconsidering, she ducked back behind the table. The leader of the Aldmeri Dominion might well risk his own life to ensure her’s was ended. She’d seen his eyes filled with hate more powerful than any she’d seen before.

She thought of Dar’Amon, then reflexively put her hand to her still flat belly and the womb within. There were people who loved her, and people she loved - not to mention people that had yet to be, that she would love too. No. That was a risk not worth the small reward. He would learn of her survival in time. Best to wait for them to be well gone from the palace - to be gone from the entire country. This was no time to be proud or heroic. She was the Khajitmother. She had more to consider now than a little pointless bravado.

The commotion faded as the guards, the Mane and the rest left the area. But then the two Argonians returned and rounded the corner of the table to check on the fate of their sister.

“KhajiitMother!!! You live?!!!” cried one of them before embracing her like an old friend.

Ra’Jirra had to steel herself against the sight of the gore-covered Argonian’s approach. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what it was that was stuck between two of her teeth, but she accepted the hug as graciously as she could.

Her sister’s appearance was little better, but she knelt instead over Quill-Weave.

“Sister… Ra’Jirra… the Histess still lives!”

Ra’Jirra rushed to her and took Quill-Weave’s hand. She was no medical doctor, of course, but she could feel blood still flowing within the Histess’ veins.

“I… don’t know much about Argonians. Is there anything I can do?”

“Water. We must find water.”

Ra’Jirra started for a glass on the table, but one of the sisters shook her head. “No. Much water. She needs to be immersed. It is our natural habitat. If she might live, it must be under water.”

“Can you carry her? The Royal bath isn’t far.”

“Yes, lead us there.”

Ra’Jirra did so, not looking at the thing that was left on the floor behind her that had once been the Altmer woman. The Argonians could be shockingly bestial in their full wrath. Yet she knew that her kind could be just as bad when provoked severely enough. Number One would be lucky to make it to his ship alive. He’d better hope his Dunmer mage had a lot of reserve magic for the long walk back.

A few minutes later, Ra’Jirra and the Argonians had carried the Histess into the Mane’s personal bath chamber and laid her in the center of his bath. This bath, however, was no single-person tub. In palatial style, it was more like a small swimming pool. The blood from the scales of the sisters turned the pool pink, but served to cleanse them from their grisly state while they laid their sister gently down to sink under the surface. It was odd, looking at the woman who had done so much for her, now lying motionless at the bottom of a pool, and not think of her as drowned.

A guard came in belatedly, but she recognized him and explained quickly before he could bother the Argonians. She ignored the obvious distraction her bodysuit was causing him. Somehow, without the Raba around it signifying the office of Concubine, it was apparently much more stimulating. Sometimes males had such bad timing. She had no time for that now.

“Guard! I’m up here! Where’s the Mane?” she demanded, turning back to the pool. All three Argonians were underwater now.

“Nearly the entire palace and royalty have gone to the docks to run those murdering Altmer out of the country. I don’t think they’ll stop at the docks either. There’s talk of a warship to harass them all the way back to their homeland! Wait… But… they said they murdered you!”

“Reports of my death have been somewhat exaggerated. They tried. Look, could you send someone after the Mane and let him know I’m okay? As for the Histess, she’s apparently in a bad way. If you can find anyone who knows anything about Argonian medicine, we could use help on that front too.”

“I’ll do so, Lady Ra’Jirra,” the guard nodded and began to leave the room before she grabbed his tail as another thought struck her. He turned back around. “Yes?”

“Oh… um… there’s another, a fellow Khajiit. My fiance. His name is Dar’Amon.”

“The naked guy from the other day? Oh, I remember him.”

“If you see him, let him know I’m okay too, would you?”

“If I can recognize him, sure! I don’t suppose he’ll be naked?”

Ra’Jirra frowned. “No. He won’t be naked!”

“Oh… well… I just mean, that’s mostly what I remember about him.”

“Oh, nevermind! And please hurry would you. Especially about that Argonian doctor.”

As the guard left, something was nagging at her. Then she realized what it was. ‘Someone who knows about Argonians’. She knew someone who knew more about Argonians than the Argonians themselves. The Hist.

She sat on a couch nearby and closed her eyes.