No Man Left Behind part 6

Finn yawned as he continued to lean against the wall in the cell room. When he arrived for his shift at guard duty, Cicero had already been curled up on top of the sleeping mat resting. Hours passed and the Fool of Hearts appeared dead to the world, not moving or even making the slightest sound. The peace and quiet was a change of pace for the guard and also slightly unnerving.  Now it had become far too quiet, and his thoughts were deafening. The Keeper had his back to him so that the Penitus Oculatus agent couldn't even see the Imperial's face.

"Cicero?" he asked quietly. When the jester did not respond, Finn shrugged it off and guessed that the fool had just fallen asleep. It did not surprise him. From what the others guards had mentioned, the man never seemed to sleep.


Finn had taken time to think over the riddle that the prisoner had given him. Over and over in his head, Finn tried to come up with an answer. He wanted to think that the answer was riches, but it contradicted other parts of the riddle. He also thought the answer might have been love, but then again, one cannot spend love.  

The silence was broken when Salvarus entered. His shift was about to begin, so it was no surprise that he had shown up early. He munched on an apple and tossed another one over to Finn, making the agent have to leap forward to catch it.

"One of the soldiers came back with a chest of food. Thought you might be hungry."

Finn thanked him as he began to eat the apple. Salvarus leaned against the wall next to the other agent and glared at the prisoner.

"Has he given you any trouble?"

"He's been sleeping the whole time," Finn muttered as he took a huge chomp into the fruit.

"I don't buy it. He doesn't sleep," growled Salvarus. "Hey clown! You're not fooling anyone!" The soldier hurled his half-eaten apple into the cell and it made a perfect connection to the back of Cicero's head.

The apple bounced off the jester, then rolled off to a corner of the cell. The Fool of Hearts made no sound or showed even the slightest hint of a reaction. Salvarus' eyebrows rose. This was not the response that he had been expecting.

"You said he's been like this since your shift?"

Finn only nodded. Salvarus pulled out the keys and approached the cell cautiously. The older Imperial kicked at the bars and a piercing rattling sound echoed through the room. The loud noise was so sudden, even Finn jumped in surprised. The metallic bang echo even continued through the halls outside until it faded into silence again. Salvarus peered in at the jester and saw that Cicero still had not stirred an inch.  

The guard unlocked the cell door and approached Cicero, keeping a hand on the hilt of his sword just in case this was some kind of ploy. He nudged the Keeper with the tip of his boot, but still the prisoner remained still as death. He used his boot once again, and this time used it to roll Cicero towards him. The jester was flat on his back, his eyes unblinking at the ceiling.

"No!" Salvarus fell to the ground and held his hand over the Keeper's face. Finn looked in and could tell that something was terribly wrong.  "He's not breathing! Dammit, he's not breathing!"

"What should we do?"

Salvarus turned to Finn and pointed frantically at the door.

"Go get one of our healers! Hurry! If he dies on us, the Commander will have our hides!"

The young Imperial wasted no time as he flew out the door. Salvarus cursed and held the side of his head with his hand. He knew that he had given the jester the thrashing of a lifetime, but he didn't think it would be enough to kill the man.

"Come on! Breathe dammit!" Salvarus barked. He pounded onto the Keeper's chest, but the smaller man remained unmoving, his eyes glazed over. "You can't die! Not on my watch!"

Salvarus then leaned over and put his head onto Cicero's chest to listen for his heart. He was surprised when he did indeed hear a heartbeat, and it was pounding furiously.  The realization fell on Salvarus too late.

"Son of a…"

Cicero's eyes lost their glossy look, and he sprung to life. Grabbing the hilt of Salvarus' sword, he kicked the surprised agent away, unsheathing the sword in the process. The jester leaped to his feet brandishing the Penitus Oculatus' sword. Salvarus stared at the Keeper in shock; he could have sworn that the Imperial had died.

"Behold! One of the many tricks of the Fool of Hearts!" Cicero laughed as he backed out of the cell, slamming the door shut. "You thought me near death? Think again!"

Cicero backed away as Salvarus launched himself at Cicero, and crashed into the cell's door. It was locked tight though. The agent glared out at him furiously.

"You were dead!"

"You're an idiot!" hissed Cicero. "I would give you the honor of being sent to the Void, but I really should be going. Mother must be missing her Sweet Cicero. Farewell! Farewell! Give my regards to Finn and the Commander!"

The jester rushed out of the door as Salvarus fumbled with the keys to the cell. He unleashed a string of curses as he mentally berated himself; the man couldn't believe that he had been tricked by the fool, AGAIN.

Cicero cautiously made his way through the passages of the keep. It had been quite some time since he and the Listener had adventured through the area. Together they had slain all the bloodthirsty hosts they had come upon. New hosts had taken their places though, the Penitus Oculatus.

Keeping a steady grip on the sword, the jester peeked around a corner. There was no one in sight; it was as though all the soldiers had turned in.  Cicero had lost track of time and did not know if it was day or night. He also was unsure how many days he had been kept locked in the cell. The Keeper did not have time to waste, Salvarus still had the keys and it would not take long before all the agents were alerted to his escape.  

The Keeper sped forward, his light feet barely making any sound as he hurried through the tunnels. Cicero felt slightly better now that he had a weapon in hand. If he came upon a soldier or two, the jester was sure he would be able to take them out. His time as a prisoner did take its toll on the fool though. He was still stiff and sore from Salvarus' beatings and having been refused food did not help his condition either.

The Keeper's spirits lifted as he spotted a pair of iron doors before him; no doubt he was close to the exit. He pushed open the door with a shoulder and peeked inside. He saw ahead a single Penitus Oculatus agent walking around a corner. A wicked smile crept up the fool's face. Tightening his grip on the sword, the jester got low to the ground, and began to creep forward.  

Cicero heard another door open and shut further ahead. Picking up the pace, the jester rounded the corner and was once again faced with a pair of iron doors.

"More doors," he grumbled. "I seem to remember there being a lot less. Maro certainly has been keeping busy."

Cicero's ears perked up as he heard shouting in the far distance. Salvarus had certainly gotten out of the cell, and was none too pleased at the moment.

"Oh, bother," Cicero hissed. "Could they not slow down a bit?"

Against his better judgment, the Keeper decided to abandon the notion of sneaking out, and instead make a mad dash for freedom.  He gripped the sword firmly in his hands, and burst through the iron doors. He charged forward and believed for a moment that he was home free. There was a large open chamber ahead which he knew was the way back out to Skyrim.

Cicero bounded into the chamber and just as suddenly quickly skidded to a halt. The Keeper slowly looked around as at least ten Penitus Oculatus agents had theirs bows drawn and pointing right in his direction.  

The jester spun around as the sound of slow clapping began to fill the chamber. Atop a higher level was Commander Maro. A cynical smile was plastered on the leader's face as he continued to clap his hands together.

"Impressive, very impressive," Maro said, bringing his applause to a hold. "It seems you are quite the escape artist. It was a futile attempt, but I have to admire your tenacity. Most men would have just broken down, but you just keep fighting back."

Cicero glared up at Maro, but then a smile crept up his face and the Fool of Hearts began to laugh. Dropping his sword to the ground, he held up his hands.

"You caught me," chuckled Cicero as he grinned wickedly. "I surrender."

The jester then sprung forward and out of the way as Salvarus erupted through the doors and promptly swung a fist at the fool's head.

"Salvarus," Maro sighed. "Why am I not surprised to find out that this involved you somehow?"

The Imperial flushed as he continued to glare furiously at the maddening jester. The Keeper just shrugged innocently as he turned his gaze back up to Maro.

"Salvarus cannot help it. Cicero is just too clever for him." The jester then kicked the sword back to the irate soldier. "Thanks for letting me borrow that."

Salvarus leaned down to grab then weapon and quickly returned it to its sheath.

"Sir," grumbled Salvarus. "I thought the jester was dead. He showed no signs of…"

"I am not interested in excuses!" Maro barked down at the Imperial. "Your father, Lieutenant Salvarus never made any! He also did not get tricked by fools on a regular basis." The Commander shook his head in disappointment, and then pointed to the archers.

"Gentlemen, would you escort this man back to his cell?" He then pointed at Salvarus. "You! Come up here. We need to talk…NOW!"

The jester chuckled as he peacefully allowed the archers to lead him back through the tunnels.

"He sounds mad. Perhaps you will be my new cellmate. Won't that be fun?"

The Imperial lifted up his arm to backhand Cicero, but the jester quickly hurried ahead, laughing loudly the entire time.   

Salvarus tucked his helmet under his arm as he walked up the wooden stairwell to his commander. The Commander snatched his helmet away as he glared furiously at the soldier.

"What in Oblivion is going on with you, Salvarus? You are one of my best. Now it seems that a simple jester can get the best of you."

"He's not a mere jester," explained Salvarus. "By the Eight, that man looked dead! It was as if Sithis himself rose from his body and attacked." The soldier narrowed his eyes as he looked to the side. "He's an assassin, and his cunning is beyond any other man I've ever come across. You said yourself that there was a reason he traveled with the Dark Brotherhood's leader. This must be the reason why!"

Maro began to pace as Salvarus held out his arms in desperation. "You asked us to bring him here so that we could find out where the Listener's stronghold is located. Once we kill him off, the Dark Brotherhood will fall apart. As soon at that fools tells us where the Pale sanctuary is, we can wipe that cult off of Tamriel permanently!"

"But he's not telling us anything!" growled Maro as he hurled Salvarus' helmet to the ground. Salvarus' winced as it might as well have been his pride that Maro chucked to the ground. The helmet bounced and rolled off the level, making a loud clanging sound as it hit the floor. "He's been insulted! Beaten! Starved! Nothing gets to this man!"

Maro released a few deep breaths, trying to relieve some of his pent up frustration.  Salvarus folded his arms as he went into thought.

"Perhaps," he started. "We're doing this all wrong."

Maro turned back around to face the soldier and motioned for the Imperial to continue.

"He may be a killer, but he is also a lunatic. He's obviously taken this jester role to heart, and nothing we can do can deter him from that. We get angry and he just laughs at us."

"Get to the point, man!" barked Maro.

"What I am saying, Commander, is that he is not submitting to us, because we are feeding his jester side." Salvarus approached his leader and paused before him. "We've been giving him what he wants."

"What he wants?" snapped the Imperial. "Has Sheogorath touched you in the head? What could he possibly want that we've given him?"

"Attention," Salvarus answered simply.

Maro stared at the soldier for a few moments in silence. He thought over what was said, and the more he reflected on it, the more it seemed to make sense.

Since Cicero was brought there, he had been under constant watch. The guards had complained about his singing and maddening laughter and how he refused to stop, even after they pleaded with him.  There was always someone there for Cicero to annoy, torment or deceive.

"So," Maro started. "what you are saying is that if we cut him off from everything, we should start getting some proper information from the fool?"  

"I would think without anyone or anything to interact with, he'll soon become desperate for contact of any kind."

Nodding his head the Imperial leader placed a hand on Salvarus shoulder. "Get that fool and have him brought to the far chamber in the back. We'll be waiting."

Salvarus saluted the commander and then made his way back to the lower level. He picked up his helmet as he passed through the doors. If his theory was correct, this along with his hunger should be enough to finally make the lunatic crack.

Salvarus returned to the prison and upon entrance was greeted by joyous laughter.

"Oh! You came back! Cicero was worried that he had seen the last of you, Salvarus!"

The Imperial rolled his eyes as he turned to the other agents. Two archers remained and it was clear but the frustration in their eyes that the jester had been singing again.

"Orders from Commander Maro," Salvarus stated firmly. "The prisoner is to be moved to last chamber in the back."

"That one?" an archer asked in confusion. "Why? There's nothing there."

"Are you questioning our commander?" Salvarus growled.

"No! Of course not!" One of the archers pulled a cord of leather out from his satchel and approached the cell. "Alright you, no funny business."

"But funny business is all I know."

Hearing that he was being relocated did perk the jester's curiosity. The fact that Maro was moving him so soon after his escape attempt meant that the Commander must have been getting desperate. Perhaps it was more torture, perhaps it was an execution. Either way, it would be more interesting than starving in his cell.

The Keeper obediently held out his wrists, and allowed the archer to bind them. Once properly secured, the cell was opened and the three Penitus Oculatus agents marched with Cicero through the long, cave-like passages.

"Cicero remembers hearing something from the Commander earlier," the jester mentioned as he looked over at Salvarus. "Your father was a lieutenant?"

"Yes," Salvarus uttered darkly. "He was lieutenant for the Penitus Oculatus. He was aboard the Katariah, just across from the Emperor's quarters." The Imperial's eyes narrowed as he glared at the jester. "And your leader, your Listener, killed him while he tried to protect the Emperor's life."

"Across from the…" Cicero pondered aloud. He then released a quick laugh. "Oh! Salvarus is mistaking! It was not the Listener who killed the Lieutenant! No, he had a far more important target."

"What?" hissed Salvarus. His eyes darted from side to side as he went into thought. He could have sworn that no one but the Dark Brotherhood's best could have bested his father in combat.

"Yes, the Listener is a mage. He uses magic to kill his targets! He shocks them, burns them, freezes them," Cicero giggled merrily. "Oh, he does it with such finesse. It really is art in itself." The jester grinned at Salvarus. "But the Lieutenant was not shocked, frozen or burned! No! He was stabbed!"

Salvarus stopped and grabbed Cicero by his robes and pushed him hard into the wall.

"Salvarus! What are you…?!" one of the archers went to intervene, but Salvarus pulled out his sword and pointed it at him. The archer backed away, holding up his hands in submission.

"Just give me a moment!" the agent snarled. Still gripping his jester garb, the Imperial glared at Cicero furiously.  

"How do you know that?" he hissed. "How do you know how my father was killed? Were you there? Was it you?"

Cicero laughed loudly and shook his head.

"Oh, no! No, Cicero was not there. I wish I was! Being present at an emperor's assassination? A historical event for the Dark Brotherhood. It would have been an honor to witness it. Sadly, Poor Cicero could not be there for the Listener during his triumph. Cicero had to stay hidden, had to wait until it was safe to return."

"Then who was it?" Salvarus asked in desperation. "Who murdered my father?"

"Why, Lucien!" laughed Cicero.  "Lucien had slain the Lieutenant! He and the Listener worked together on that ship! Listener and Speaker, fighting side by side to fulfill their greatest Black Sacrament!"

Salvarus rattled his brain. He had heard the jester mention the name, Lucien, once before. He could not recollect whom he was speaking of however.

"This Lucien," muttered Salvarus. "Does he still live?"

"Funny story that!" laughed Cicero. "Shall I tell it?"

"Salvarus," the other archer murmured. "The Commander is waiting."

The large Imperial sighed deeply and released his grip on Cicero. He had at least gotten some answers surrounding his father's death on the Katariah.  The four once again resumed their journey in the dim-lit caverns. The further they got, the more damaged their surrounding become. Fallen walls, broken chests and spider webs littered the passage.

Soon they arrived at their destination. The jester looked around, the chamber was huge. Much larger than the one he had been caught in earlier.  Ahead was an unused, worn, stone throne on a raised platform. Two large lit sconces on both sides of the platform provided some light in the darkened area. Standing to the side of the podium was Commander Maro. A lit torch in his hand made his face an eerie orange in color as it flickered in the darkness.

Off in the distance by an unlit corner were two large Penitus Oculatus agents. There was something behind them, but in the dim light, all Cicero could make out were slight shadows.

The Fool of Hearts could only smile as he was brought before Commander Maro. The darkness and shadows were nothing new to the jester, and Maro was no more intimidating here than he was in the light.

"I see my living quarters have been upgraded!" laughed the Keeper. "Much bigger! Much roomier! What has Cicero done to earn such a prize?"

Maro extended his arm so that the torch was close to the fool's face, making the jester wince slightly.

"It has come to my attention, Cicero, that normal methods are not going to work on you. Even on your dying breath, you would not betray your Brotherhood."

Cicero sighed inwardly. He believed that he had finally stopped becoming useful while alive. The jester at this point figured that there indeed was to be an execution.

"So, you've finally learned when to quit," Cicero said quietly. "Well, it's been fun, Maro. I'm glad we got to have this time together." Cicero looked from side to side before returning to stare at Maro. "So, how is it going to end for Poor Cicero? Decapitation? Throat slitting? Burning? Drowning? Poison?" the jester read off the death list, getting more excited as he named each method.

  "If this is to be Cicero's last stand, at least let it be a glorious one! The Void will be my home and the Dread Father and Night Mother will welcome me as a loyal member of the Brotherhood!"

A small smile crept up the Commander's face as the fool bravely anticipated and welcomed death. He took a few steps back and continued to smile. This smile did nothing for the Keeper's nerves.

"Cicero prefers it when you frown," he muttered quietly.

"Cicero," started Maro. "Do you like games?"

The Keeper instantly perked up and he stared at the commander in confusion. He might have expected something like this from Finn, but for Maro to offer a game made the jester on his guard.

"Yes. Cicero loves games indeed," the Keeper muttered, more puzzled than anything else.

"Like any game there is a winner and a loser. If I win, you tell me where to find the Dark Brotherhood sanctuary in the Pale. If you win," Maro stopped to chuckle slightly. "Well, we'll worry about that when the time comes."

Maro gestured for them to follow and he made his way over to the two agents in the shadows. The jester had to be pushed slightly by Salvarus to move forward. The Keeper could deal with pain, he could deal with hunger, but not knowing what Maro had planned made him nervous.

Once the Commander was by the agents, he placed his torch in an open sconce, lighting up the small area.  The shadows vanished and the warm glow of the fire lit up the empty sarcophagus.

The moment Cicero laid eyes on the casket his heart sank and a shiver ran up his spine.

"The game is called 'Solitary Confinement'," started Maro. "What is going to happen is you are going to spend time alone here." He then glared at the jester menacingly. "I am hoping for your sake that you are already putting together a map of the Pale in your mind."

"No... No!... NO!"  Cicero tried to scramble back, but was stopped by Salvarus. The Penitus Oculatus agent held the struggling Keeper as the other two soldiers moved over to where a large, stone lid had been resting and started to lift it up.

"Rip out my intestines! Hang me! Kill me! Just don't put me in there!" Cicero pleaded as he tried to break out of Salvarus' grip.

Maro needed to only make a slight gesture with his head, and Salvarus dragged the terrified fool towards the stone tomb. In a single movement, Cicero was hurled up and into the empty casket.

"Close it up!" Maro barked.

The other two soldier, worked together to quickly lift the heavy lid over the sarcophagus and releasing it. There was a loud gravely crunch sound as the top of the coffin had been replaced.  Cicero's screaming however was not any less muffled.

Maro glared at the coffin and then turned to his agents.

"Listen. Unless this fool gives anyone a site in the Pale, no one is to speak or make any sound for that matter in this chamber. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir!" the agents answered in unison.

"Good, spread the word to the others."

The three agents left and Maro turned to Salvarus. "Let's hope this plan of yours works. I'm running low on patience, Salvarus."

"It will work," he answered confidently.  The two Imperial's saluted one another, and then Maro took his leave. Salvarus sighed and looked back at the coffin in frustration. The jester was practically wailing as he cried to be let out.  The Penitus Oculatus rolled his eyes and folded his arms as he prepared for his shift. He was going to be dead silent on his end, but Cicero was going to be anything, but.

Even with his hands bound, the Keeper pounded his fists into the stony top of his prison. Over and over he screamed to be let out, but there was no sound. With the exception of his screaming, there were no other voices. No one to talk to, no one to interact with. He was alone.

The Keeper had screamed until his voice had become ragged and almost inaudible. The jester trembled as he squeezed his eyes shut. It was cramped and dark. There was no light and no sound. It was Cheydinhal all over again.