Going their Separate WaysEdit
Reiner Fuchs (aka Decumus Scotti) and Laila began their new life on the lam. He became so adept at passing himself off as a Nord that even genuine Nords were taken in. The two wandered to the small unassuming village of Vos in the far northeast where they established a general store. There was an urgent need among the farmers for a cheaper alternative to the shopping arcade in Tel Vos. They also wanted to be as far away from nosy Imperial detectives as they could possibly get.
Unfortunately for both of them, there never was a honeymoon, and they now lived together as two single people. What prevented her from leaving Reiner was the misapprehension that by having stayed with him as long as she did she was now an accomplice to his crime. It was easy to prove that she was in Ebonheart when the crime was committed, but it was impossible to prove she had no prior knowledge of it.
They were leading a settled existence until one day when Laila returned home informing him of the WANTED poster set up in the village square. It showed how he looked at the time he committed the crime, but there was no guarantee that nobody would be fooled by the braids and the Nord accent.
“This is serious!” he blurted. He grabbed the CLOSED sign and hung it outside on the door.
“No, don’t do that!” Laila remonstrated and brought the sign back in. “Whatever we do, let’s not call any attention to ourselves. Let’s calm down and think this over.”
Reiner remembered all the times customers asked him where he learned to read, and his undisguised answer was, "In school like everybody else," to which the rejoinder was, "Do Nords go to school?" He laughed it off as all a joke, but now it wasn't funny at all. They decided their best bet was to take a ship from Sadrith Mora to Dagon Fel, transfer to the Khuul ship, and from there cross over to Solsteim. What would happen after that was a great big question mark.
WRECKED:
They sat on crates on the deck of a longboat hissing over the open water of the Sea of Ghosts towards Dagon Fel. For fast water transportation, nothing can beat a longboat as the large square sail picks up even the lightest breeze that propels it forward. However, one severe drawback is that no shipwright has yet thought of a way to furl a sail by lashing it to the yardarms or at least lowering the yardarms when the wind reaches gale force during a blight storm. The best a pilot can hope for is to weave among the rocks and pray that one of them won’t be the death of his boat—or of the passengers and himself. This is why the rocks along the coasts of Vvardenfell are littered with wrecked ships.
The Breton pilot, descended from the ancient sea mariners who came to Vvardenfell many ages ago, glanced behind him at the dark horizon.
“That doesn’t look good,” he grumbled.
Laila grasped Reiner’s hand and held it hard.
“Can we put into port somewhere?” Reiner inquired.
“Beyond that horizon is all cliffs,” the pilot explained waving his arm to the right, “and all that over there is rocks, some visible, some not,” he said waving to the left. “If worse comes to worse, you can take the empty crates you’re sitting on and jump ship. Let’s pray that it doesn’t come to that, but if it does, I’ll let you know the best time for it.”
“And what about you?”
“Maybe I’ll come through. Maybe I won’t.”
There was a boom of thunder in the distance, and Laila stiffened.
“What if we get separated?” she asked Scotti.
“You might want to tie yourselves together at the ankle,” the pilot suggested pointing at a length of rope nearby.
Reiner quickly tied it to Laila’s ankle and then to his own, making double certain it would neither slip off or come undone. Huge drops of rain fell on the deck as the boat gradually picked up speed. Making their way among some of the rocks was like threading a needle. A larger island swept toward them from the distance. There was no getting around this one.
“Ready!”
Reiner and Laila moved the crates to the gunwale and propped them up ready to push and jump.
“Steady! GO!”
They both went overboard, but it took a while for the heavy crates to bob up to the surface. Neither of the two had learned to swim, but they knew from instinct not to gasp for air while below water. When they came up, the rain was pouring down so hard it was difficult to tell if they were still below water or above it. There was a deafening crunch of timbers splitting on rock, and they realized the longboat was no more.
They struggled to find out how to make forward movement in the water while clinging to the crates and eventually found a foot hold as they neared the island. They trudged painfully onto the rain-swept beach as they pulled the crates up after them.
There was nothing and nobody. Decumus untied the rope and told Laila to stay there. He drew his glass dagger and went to see if there were any bandit caves on the island.
He returned shortly and found Laila looking worn out and forlorn.
"How is the longboat?”
“Lying like a heap of matchsticks just over that ridge.”
“And the pilot?”
“I didn’t get close enough, but it looks as if the force of the collision threw him against the rocks beyond. Maybe we should go bury him."
A strange look came over Laila's face.
"Laila. ...Laila!"
"WHAT?!"
"Maybe we should go bury the pilot."
"Well, thank you for bringing a shovel!"
(What had suddenly gotten into her?)
"I was thinking more in the line of piling stones on top of him," he responded.
"Save your strength. Tomorrow is another day," she said coldly and turned away.
Together they searched and finally found a place where the surf had carved a shallow cave in the rock. It was good to get out of the rain, but they were entirely soaked. For some strange reason, she insisted on sleeping in her own little niche with a section of sail cloth pulled over her head like a blanket.
Reiner felt too uneasy to sleep as he watched the sailcloth in its niche. He would have liked to cuddle her and find out what was on her mind, but deep down inside he already knew. They wouldn’t be in this fix if he hadn’t acted so selfishly. Why didn’t she leave him to his fate when they were in Vos?
LAILA’S REVENGE:
Laila was awakened by the sound of pounding and splitting. She came out of the cave under the most beautiful azure sky she’d ever seen. Decumus was laboring over a dead mudcrab almost as big as a table. He was cracking it open every which way he could find and digging out the raw meat.
“B’vec, Reiner! How do you propose we eat this?!”
“As is,” he answered matter of factly, “as you can see we have little in the way of firewood and no cooking utensils. Anyway, I understand this is how they eat it in Akavir."
"Since when have you been interested in Akavir?"
"Uh, well, I'm not," he shrugged, "but if it's good enough for the Akaviris, it's good enough for me."
“Yeccch!”
“Suit yourself. I for one don’t want to starve on this rock.”
He sat down and started balling up crab meat and popping it into his mouth.
“Mmmm! Those Akaviris are spot on! Come on, Laila, it’s not going to kill you, and there’s enough here to feed a squadron of guards!”
“Later,” she said and wandered off.
Of course, raw mudcrab meat can’t be eaten later, so he picked up the heap of leftovers and heaved it into the water. What happened next astonished Reiner beyond measure. Schools of slaughterfish swam from all directions, and there was a feeding frenzy. Reiner picked up a tree branch and clubbed as many as he could, slit them open to scoop out the guts, then laid them open in the sun to dry. Before long, they had enough fish to last them a week.
“Whatever became of Laila?” he finally wondered.
He finally found her near the wrecked longboat. She was hunched over the corpse. He tiptoed closer to see what she was doing. She had picked ferns and a few stunted wildflowers and was singing an Elfen lullaby as she arranged them around the pilot’s head. Reiner feared that she might have lost her sanity.
“Dear Mr. Pilot,” she said sitting upright again, “may this death offering speed you on to wherever your people go when their life is gone. And there look down in favor on your former passenger, whose life you generously helped save, and grant me yet one more small request. I want you to bear the guilt of the man who owns this ring.”
She removed the Scotti signet ring from her finger and placed it on one of the stiffened fingers. “LAILA! What is this?! Necromancy?!” he shouted.
“Don’t startle me like that!” she admonished harshly. “I want you to leave this island!” she suddenly demanded. “I want you to leave, now!”
“But, Laila! I’m sorry!”
“Reiner, go! Now!”
Too stunned to know what else to do, he obeyed. She watched impassively as he used ropes from the rigging to lash planks together to make a crude raft. It seemed suitably seaworthy as he got on board. Then he used a pole to shove off into the current to go wherever it might take him.
“Ebonheart steps!” he shouted to her. “New Years day! I’ll see you there! I love you!”
Laila waived, but she couldn't find it in her to respond.
"To have and to hold till death do us part," she thought. "Good bye—and good riddance!"
SPLENDID (?) ISOLATION:
For the first time in a very long time, Laila felt as if a great weight had been thrown off her. She pulled off her ragged shirt, skirt, and undergarments and threw everything into the sea, stretched her bare limbs, and screamed in utter joy at her new-found freedom.
The dried slaughterfish that Reiner had prepared for her tasted foul, but when you’re hungry, you gag it down the best you can. There was still some rainwater in the indentations in the rock, so she got down on her hands and knees sucking up as much as she could find. Thirst wasn’t driving her mad, but it would if it didn’t rain again soon. She really should have spent more time in the shade instead of sunning her body to rid it of tiny creepy-crawly things that were causing her to itch all over.
Laila wasn't one to be scared of the dark, but there was something frightfully uncanny about being stuck on a lonely rock in the middle of the sea as the sun began to sink toward the horizon. The mind can start doing strange things, as in the story of the archer who woke at night, raised his crossbow, and shot himself in the foot: the two glowing eyes he thought he saw in the dark were really light glinting off his toe nails.
The ferns and wild flowers that still made a circle where the pilot’s head were now quite dry, so she gathered them up, found two dry sticks, and began rubbing the sticks together very fast until smoke began to appear. She blew on the smoking part until it began to glow in the twilight. She applied some dried foliage, and before long she had a happy little camp fire. There wasn’t much in the way of foliage and sticks on the island, but there was enough to keep a fire going until somebody saw the smoke and rescued her. She gathered as much tinder as she could and kept feeding the fire all night long.
THE JIG IS UP:
Fortunately for Reiner, it didn’t take long for him to be rescued from his rickety raft. As the current carried him along, he came to notice the outline of a galleon on the misty horizon. It had to be at anchor because the raft continued to drift closer. He tried using a board to propel himself until he was within shouting distance.
“Ahoy!” he yelled.
At first there was no sign of anyone on board.
“Ahoy!”
Some men finally appeared on deck.
“I request permission to board!”
A rope ladder was thrown over the side, and Reiner grabbed it pulling himself up from the raft, which glided languidly away from under his feet.
Once on deck, he found himself surrounded by a group of sun-tanned, battle-hardened Bretons. They led him to the cabin of Captain Raymond Rashotte, who cut a dashing figure in his sky-blue frock coat and white knee-breeches. He approached Reiner and cocked his head a bit as if there was some recognition. Then, strangely, grasping his braids with the left hand and his beard with the right hand, he examined Reiner’s face, turning it this way and that, as it would appear without them. He then released his grasp and stepped back.
“Well, well, Misieur Decumus Scotti, welcome to my ship,” he said wiping his hands on a towel, and Reiner winced, not so much at being called by his real name as hearing it pronounced “Decumue Scottee”.
The cabin door had just opened and closed quietly, and a young man suddenly appeared among the crew.
“Begging your pardon, Captain.” Reiner responded in a folksy way. “But my name is Reiner Fuchs.”
“Misieur, you needn’t play this game with me. I have seen your poster, and it mentioned a rather large bounty on your head.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Reiner said putting on a well-practiced deadpan expression.
"Ah, so misieur is of no use to us." He turned to the crew, "What say you? Do we need a faux-Nord consuming your victuals?"
"NO!" they stamped in unison. Reiner's blood froze.
"Well, what shall we do with this faux-Nord?"
"Slaughterfish! Slaughterfish! Slaughterfish!" they shouted stamping with each word.
"Throw him overboard!" the captain said snapping his fingers.
A number of men grabbed him by the arms.
"WAIT!" Reiner shouted. "Yes, I am Decumus Scotti," he admitted.
“Throw him in the brig,” the captain ordered. "We have to find a way to get him to the authorities."
Several days passed and Reiner—well, let’s go back to using his real name—and Decumus was actually well-treated. Several days passed, and suddenly there was a commotion on the ship.
“All hands on deck!” came the command from the first mate.
Decumus couldn’t see what was going on, but an East Empire freight ship had come into sight, and the “Jolly Roger” flag was hoisted and cutlasses distributed among the crew.
The young man who’d entered the cabin during the captain’s interview suddenly appeared at the barred door of Decumus’s cell.
“Decumus Scotti, you are a person of interest to the Blades. Take this,” he handed him one of two scrolls of Almsivi Intervention. “At the count of three, we both activate. One, two, three!”
They found themselves in the courtyard of the Gnisis temple.
“Follow me!” he ordered, and the two headed for the silt strider.
Decumus eventually found himself in the tap room of the South Wall Corner Club where Caius Cosades and Yumiya were discussing important business. The spy reported where he'd found Scotti and how he sprung him out. Cosades dropped a pouch of gold coins into the young man’s hand, and the spy hurried out to make out a report on Captain Rashotte’s activities.
“Master Scotti,” Cosades addressed him. “Oh, you needn’t worry about using your real name. We are literally and figuratively underground here. It was Yumiya who brought you to my attention.” Yumiya smiled at Decumus but let Cosades do the talking. “After I commissioned her to undertake a very difficult quest for us, she requested that we track you down and get you out of trouble—from the brig of a pirate ship, no less. Yumiya, how did you know about this?”
Yumiya didn't want to tell of the mystical conversation with her maker, in which he warned her that Laila was going to make things extremely difficult for Scotti. She didn't know about his capture, but she didn't mind taking credit for her prescience.
“Uh, let's just say my sixth sense.”
“Well, anyway, I promised a reward to my informers and spies to be the first to bring you to safety. Let’s go over to my place near here and discuss this matter in private. You’re free to go now, Yumiya.”
“Thank you so much, Master Cosades. I’ll see you later at the Eight Plates, Decumus.”
“Oh-ho! So Decumus, it is!” Cosades said with a chuckle.
LAILA'S RESCUE:
Somebody touched Laila's shoulder and shook her gently.
She woke and was startled to see a helmeted face looking down at her in the morning light. She drew her Daedric tanto.
“Whoa! Hold on, miss! We’re here to help you!” said the Imperial captain of the guard.
There were three guards crouching over her. All she had on was a sail cloth that she was wearing like a poncho tied at the waist with some rope. She had a vision of her abused body being dumped into the sea as food for the slaughterfish, and the world would be none the wiser.
“Mrs. Laila Scotti, if you will, and I know how to use this!” she declared jumping up and flashing the tanto at them. “Touch me again and you're all dead meat!”
"Are you thirsty?" the captain asked reaching a water jug to her.
She dropped the tanto and grabbed the jug with both hands. The cool water couldn't go into her throat fast enough as it dribbled down her chin.
“Hey, you’d better not rehydrate too quickly!” he said tapping the jug for her to stop gulping.
"Ah, thank you!” she coughed from some water that went down the wrong way. “You are a life-saver!" she smiled as she handed the jug back to him.
"Here," he said eagerly pouring water into her cupped hands so she could wash the salty grime off her face and make herself more presentable. He offered his own handkerchief for her to dry her face.
“Are you alone?” he asked.
“No, I’m with my husband.”
The three guards glanced around and saw nothing.
“You say you’re with your husband. Decumus Scotti, I presume. Where is he?”
“Beyond that ridge.”
They readied their swords in case of a fight as they climbed over the ridge with Laila following them.
“Where?” the captain said a bit more sharply as they looked down on the boat remains.
“Over there,” she said pointing to the rocks just beyond as if he were playing hide-and-seek with them.
The guards couldn’t tell if this was a trap or a joke. They proceeded forward cautiously, their hands on the hilts of their broadswords. They made it past the wreckage, and still nothing happened. But the stench of a corpse soon informed them that this was no joke. They put cloths up to their faces as they approached.
The captain knelt down on one knee and inspected the body. He turned to the others and made a thumbs-up sign. The others nodded joyfully. He bent down, removed the signet ring, and put it in his pocket.
Laila followed the captain back to where they had landed. He took out a log book and recorded the date and time of day and wrote the following:
“Subject Decumus Scotti found several days dead after shipwreck on island in Sea of Ghosts. Positive identification through Scotti signet ring.”
He clapped the book shut.
“Uh, Captain, does his death absolve me?”
“Excuse me, absolve you from what?”
“My complicity in his crime.”
“Mrs. Scotti, it is a well-established fact that you were in Ebonheart when the crime was committed. If you had helped him escape, we would have a case against you, but seeing you were merely living with him… Well, there’s no law against living with a husband no matter how bad he is.”
“Yes, but he did drop me a big hint that he had ‘unfinished business’ with Vanech.”
“Well, what did you know, and when did you know it?”
“When we met up afterward, he told me everything, how he doused pyroil tar on the contracts at the Vanech Building Commission and poured a line of pyroil tar like a long fuse going out the door of the room. Then he lit the fuse and bolted out of there. Then KABOOM!”
The captain looked stunned.
“Are you willing to make a deposition? This would go a long way in understanding exactly what happened and how.”
“I would be happy to,” Laila responded, “on the condition that it will help close his case, and I can move on with my life.” The captain gave his reassurances and offered to let her stay with his mother in the capitol during the hearing.