9: Will they ever learn?

I awoke this morning in my room at the Southwall Cornerclub, thinking that the honor of House Redoran had been safely restored. I had not finished breakfast before I found out that I had just gotten started. Hibasi, the local contact for the theive's guild, slid into the opposing chair at my table with feline grace and ruined my day.

"Arathor tells me you fought a duel last night," she purred.

I nodded, wondering what this was leading up to.

"I am surprised."

"Why? I've been accepted by the Redoran House. Nerano was slandering our Archmaster. He needed a good thrashing."

"And no one better than you to do it."

Life with Ahnassi, my own Khajiit, has taught me to penetrate the well known inscrutibility. Well known, but not real. I think it's an offshoot of that even more false idea; 'they all look alike'. Anyway, I could see that Habasi was amused, and had a 'secret'; the most prized possession of a Khajiit. "What?" I asked, knowing that she would not give me the smallest piece without significant wheedling, and that she would not let me go until I had gotten the whole story.

Eventually I dug out the story. Habasi's surprise was not that I was upholding the House honor, but that I had come for Nerano. His tale of infidelity may have been embarrassing to the Archmaster, but Meril Hlaano has been directly attacking the honor of the House at its core. Apparantly he has 'explained' House Hlaalu's success in Caldera as a result of clandestined bribes and common lowly behavior by Redorans.

So I returned to the Eight Plates for lunch. Meril Hlaano, another bottom feeder from house Hlaalu, was indeed holding forth in the bar.

"Interesting theory," I interrupted as I slipped up behind him.

He took in the bruise on my cheek and got cocky. "More than a theory, outlander."

"You might want to be careful who you call 'outlander'. Your own house is accepting us now, and so is mine."

"The Empire is here, and wealthy. House Hlaalu knows how to make the best of that."

"House Redoran doesn't look at things the same way. They only accepted me because I could meet their requirements; honor, for example. Something you should develop. Quickly."

"Says who, outlander? Give me a name so I can talk about you too."

I grinned. A Hluulu guard stepped close. "Excellency," he said, "you have heard the story of the destruction of the Dark Brotherhood in Mournhold?"

"Of course," the petty noble snapped. "The outlander assassins were swept by the Mage's Guild."

"Not exactly," the guard said. "It was the Archmage of the guild, but at the time he was not the Archmage. That was later, after he killed the previous Archmage in a duel. I would have thought that after he came back with a stack of Dark Brotherhood chainmail that would stagger a pack guar that the Cyrodiil would have turned the guild over peacefully."

"Dark Brotherhood chain? You can get that anywhere. Every armorer in Balmora has it."

It was time to put in a word. "They all got it from me," I said quietly. "It was hard to keep from saturating the market."

"From you?" His eyes widened.

"Excellency, this is Arvil Bren, the Archmage of Vvardenfell," said the guard. "I didn't want a duel on my watch, Archmage, especially during my lunch," he said after Hlaanu had beaten a hasty retreat.

"No problem," I said. "Keep him quiet?"

"Agreed. I respect my own House, of course, but there is no doubt that the Redorans have their honor."