The Real Barenziah , Book IV Summary . This book is part of a five - volume series on Barenziah that have been appearing since : Content . " Everything I have ever loved , I have lost , " Barenziah thought despondently , looking at the mounted knights behind and ahead , her tirewomen near her in a carriage . " Yet I have gained a measure of wealth and power , and the promise of more to come . Dearly have I bought it . Now I do understand better Tiber Septim ' s love of it , if he has often paid such prices . For surely worth is measured by the price we pay . " By her wish , she rode on a shiny roan mare , clad as a warrior in resplendent chain mail of Dark Elven make . As the days slowly slipped by and her train rode the winding road eastward into the setting sun , around her gradually rose the steep - sided mountain slopes of Morrowind . The air was thin , and a chill late autumn wind blew constantly . But it was also rich with the sweet spicy smell of the late - blooming black rose , which was native to Morrowind and grew in every shadowy nook and crevice of its highlands , finding nourishment even in the stoniest banks and ridges . In small villages and towns , ragged Dark Elven folk gathered along the road to cry her name or simply gape . Most of her knightly escort were Redguard s , with a few High Elves , Nord s , and Breton s . As they wove their way into the heart of Morrowind , they grew increasingly uncomfortable and clung together in protective clusters . Even the Elven knights seemed wary . But Barenziah felt at home , at last . She felt the welcome extended to her by the land . Her land . Symmachus met her at the Mournhold border with an escort of knights , about half of whom were Dark Elven . In Imperial battle dress , she noted . There was a grand parade of entry into the city and speeches of welcome from stately dignitaries . " I ' ve had the queen ' s suite refurbished for you , " the general told her later when they reached the palace , " but you may change anything not to your taste , of course . " He went on about the details of the coronation , which was to be held in a week . He was his old commanding self - - but she sensed something else as well . He was eager for her approval of the arrangements , was in fact fishing for it . That was new . He had never required her commendation before . He asked her nothing about her stay in the Imperial City , or of her affair with Tiber Septim - - although Barenziah was certain Drelliane had told him , or earlier written him , everything in detail . The ceremony itself , like so much else , was a mixture of old and new - - parts of it from the ancient Dark Elven tradition of Mournhold , the others dictated by Imperial decree . She was sworn to the service of the Empire and Tiber Septim as well as to the land of Mournhold and its people . She accepted oaths of fealty and allegiance from the people , the nobility , and the council . This last was composed of a blend of Imperial emissaries ( " advisors " they were called ) and native representatives of the Mournhold people , who were mostly elders in accordance with Elven custom . Barenziah later found that much of her time was occupied in attempting to reconcile these two factions and their cronies . The elders were expected to do most of the conciliating , in light of reforms introduced by the Empire pertaining to land ownership and surface farming . But most of these went clean against Dark Elven observances . Tiber Septim , " in the name of the One , " had ordained a new tradition - - and apparently even the gods and goddesses themselves were expected to obey . The new Queen threw herself into her work and her studies . She was through with love and men for a long , long time - - if not forever . There were other pleasures , she discovered , as Symmachus had promised her long ago : those of the mind , and those of power . She developed ( surprisingly , for she had always rebelled against her tutors at the Imperial City ) a deep love for Dark Elven history and mythology , a hunger to know more fully the people from whom she had sprung . She was gratified to learn that they had been proud warriors and skilled craftsmen and cunning mages since time immemorial . Tiber Septim lived for another half - century , during which she saw him on several occasions as she was bidden to the Imperial City on one reason of state or another . He greeted her with warmth during these visits , and they even had long talks together about events in the Empire when opportunity would permit . He seemed to have quite forgotten that there had ever been anything between them more than easy friendship and a profound political alliance . He changed little as the years passed . Rumor had it that his mages had developed spells to extend his vitality , and that even the One had granted him immortality . Then one day a messenger came with the news that Tiber Septim was dead , and his grandson Pelagius was now Emperor in his place . They had heard the news in private , she and Symmachus . The sometime Imperial General and now her trusted Prime Minister took it stoically , as he took most everything . " Somehow it doesn ' t seem possible , " Barenziah said . " I told you . Ai . It ' s the way of humans . They are a short - lived people . It doesn ' t really matter . His power lives on , and his son now wields it . " " You called him your friend once . Do you feel nothing ? No grief ? " He shrugged . " There was a time when you called him somewhat more . What do you feel , Barenziah ? " They had long ago ceased to address each other in private by their formal titles . " Emptiness . Loneliness , " she said , then she too shrugged . " But that ' s not new . " " Ai . I know , " he said softly , taking her hand . " Barenziah . . . " He turned her face up and kissed her . The act filled her with astonishment . She couldn ' t remember his ever touching her before . She ' d never thought of him in that way - - and yet , undeniably , an old familiar warmth spread through her . She ' d forgot ten how good it felt , that warmth . Not the scorching heat she ' d felt with Tiber Septim , but the comforting , robust ardor she somehow associated with . . . with Straw ! Straw . Poor Straw . She hadn ' t thought of him in so long . He ' d be middle - aged now if he were still alive . Probably with a dozen children , she thought affectionately . . . and a hearty wife who hopefully could talk for two . " Marry me , Barenziah , " Symmachus was saying , he seemed to have picked up her thoughts on mar riage , children . . . wives , " I ' ve worked and toiled and waited long enough , haven ' t I ? " Marriage . A peasant with peasant dreams . The thought appeared in her mind , clear and unbidden . Hadn ' t she used those very same words to describe Straw , so very long ago ? And yet , why not ? If not Symmachus , who else ? Many of the great noble families of Morrowind had been wiped out in Tiber Septim ' s great war of unification , before the treaty . Dark Elven rule had been restored , it was true - - but not the old , not the true nobility . Most of them were upstarts like Symmachus , and not even half as good or deserving as he was . He had fought to keep Mournhold whole and hale when their so - called counselors would have picked at its bones , sucked them dry as Ebonheart had been sucked dry . He ' d fought for Mournhold , fought for her , while she and the kingdom grew and thrived . She felt a sudden rush of gratitude - - and , undeniably , affection . He was steady and reliable . And he ' d served her well . And loved her well . " Why not ? " she said , smiling . And took his hand . And kissed him . The union was a good one , in its political as well as personal aspects . While Tiber Septim ' s grandson , the Emperor Pelagius Septim , viewed her with a jaundiced eye , his trust in his father ' s old friend was absolute . Symmachus , however , was still viewed with suspicion by Morrowind ' s stiff - necked folk , chary at his peasant ancestry and his close ties to the Empire . But the Queen was quite unshakably popular . " The Lady Barenziah ' s one of our own , " it was whispered , " held captive as we . " Barenziah felt content . There was work and there was pleasure - - and what more could one ask of life ? The years passed swiftly , with crises to be dealt with , and storms and famines and failures to be weath ered , and plots to be foiled , and conspirators to be executed . Mournhold prospered steadily . Her people were secure and fed , her mines and farms productive . All was well - - save that the royal marriage had produced no children . No heirs . Elven children are slow to come , and most demanding of their welcome - - and noble children more so than others . Thus many decades had come to pass before they grew concerned . " The fault lies with me , Symmachus . I ' m damaged goods , " Barenziah said bitterly . " If you want to take another . . . " " I want no other , " Symmachus said gently , " nor do I know for certain that the fault is yours . Perhaps it is mine . Ai . Whichever . We will seek a cure . If there is damage , surely it may be repaired . " " How so ? When we dare not entrust anyone with the true story ? Healer ' s oaths do not always hold . " " It won ' t matter if we change the time and circumstances a bit . Whatever we say or fail to say , Jephre the Storyteller never rests . The god ' s inventive mind and quick tongue are ever busy spreading gossip and rumor . " Priests and healers and mages came and went , but all their prayers , potions , and philtres produced not even a promise of bloom , let alone a single fruit . Eventually they thrust it from their minds and left it in the gods ' hands . They were yet young , as Elves went , with centuries ahead of them . There was time . With Elves there was always time . Barenziah sat at dinner in the Great Hall , pushing food about on a plate , feeling bored and restless . Symmachus was away , having been summoned to the Imperial City by Tiber Septim ' s great - great - grandson , Uriel Septim . Or was it his great - great - great - grandson ? She ' d lost count , she realized . Their faces seemed to blur one into the next . Perhaps she should have gone with him , but there ' d been the delegation from Tear on a tiresome matter that nevertheless required delicate handling . A bard was singing in an alcove off the hall , but Barenziah wasn ' t listening . Lately all the songs seemed the same to her , whether new or old . Then a turn of phrase caught her attention . He was singing of freedom , of adventure , of freeing Morrowind from its chains . How dare he ! Barenziah sat up straight and turned to glare at him . Worse , she realized he was singing of some ancient , and now immaterial , war with the Skyrim Nords , praising the heroism of Kings Edward and Moraelyn and their brave Companions . The tale was old enough , certainly , yet the song was new . . . and its meaning . . . Barenziah couldn ' t be sure . A bold fellow , this bard , but with a strong , passionate voice and a good ear for music . Rather hand some too , in a raffish sort of way . He didn ' t look to be well - off exactly , nor was he all that young . Certainly he couldn ' t be under a century of age . Why hadn ' t she heard him before , or at least heard of him ? " Who is he ? " she inquired of a lady - in - waiting . The woman shrugged and said , " Calls himself the Nightingale , Milady . No one seems to know any thing about him . " " Bid him speak with me when he has done . " The man called the Nightingale came to her , thanked her for the honor of the Queen ' s audience and the fat purse she handed him . His manner wasn ' t bold at all , she decided , rather quiet and unassuming . He was quick enough with gossip about others , but she learned nothing about him - - he turned all questions away with a joking riposte or a ribald tale . Yet these were recounted so charmingly it was impossible to take offence . " My true name ? Milady , I am no one . No , no , my parents named me Know Wan - - or was it No Buddy ? What matters it ? It matters not . How may parents give name to that which they know not ? Ah ! I believe that was the name , Know Not . I have been the Nightingale for so long I do not remember , since , oh , last month at the very least - - or was it last week ? All my memory goes into song and tale , you see , Milady . I ' ve none left for myself . I ' m really quite dull . Where was I born ? Why , Knoweyr . I plan to settle in Dun roamin when I get there . . . but I ' m in no hurry . " " I see . And will you then marry Atallshur ? " " Very perceptive of you , Milady . Perhaps , perhaps . Although I find Innhayst quite charming too , at whiles . " " Ah . You are fickle , then ? " " Like the wind , Milady . I blow hither and yon , hot and cold , as chance suits . Chance is my suit . Naught else wears well on me . " Barenziah smiled . " Stay with us awhile , then . . . if you will , Milord Erhatick . " " As you wish , Milady Bryte . " After that brief exchange , Barenziah found her interest in life somehow rekindled . All that had seemed stale became fresh and new again . She greeted each day with zest , looking forward to conversation with the Nightingale and the gift of his song . Unlike other bards , he never sang her praises , nor other women ' s , but only of high adventure and bold deeds . When she asked him about this , he said , " What greater praise of your beauty could you ask , Milady , than that which your own mirror gives you ? And if words you would have , you have those of the greatest , of those greater than my callow self . How should I vie with them , I who was born but a week gone by ? " For once they were speaking privately . The Queen , unable to sleep , had summoned him to her cham ber that his music might soothe her . " You are lazy and a coward , sera , else I hold no charm for you . " " Milady , to praise you I must know you . I can never know you . You are wrapped in enigma , in clouds of enchantment . " " Nay , not so . Your words are what weave enchantment . Your words . . . and your eyes . And your body . Know me if you will . Know me if you dare . " He came to her then . They lay close , they kissed , they embraced . " Not even Barenziah truly knows Barenziah , " he whispered softly , " so how may I ? Milady , you seek and know it not , nor yet for what . What would you have , that you have not ? " " Passion , " she answered back . " Passion . And children born of it . " " And for your children , what ? What birthright might be theirs ? " " Freedom , " she said , " the freedom to be what they would be . Tell me , you who seem wisest to these eyes and ears , and the soul that knits them . Where may I find these things ? " " One lies beside you , the other beneath you . But would you dare stretch out your hand , that you might take what could be yours , and your children ' s ? " " Symmachus . . . " " In my person lies the answer to part of what you seek . The other lies hidden below us in these your very kingdom ' s mines , that which will grant us the power to fulfill and achieve our dreams . That which Edward and Moraelyn between them used to free High Rock and their spirits from the hateful domination of the Nords . If it be properly used , Milady , none may stand against it , not even the power the Emperor controls . Freedom , you say ? Barenziah , freedom it gives from the chains that bind you . Think on it , Milady . " He kissed her again , softly , and withdrew . " You ' re not leaving . . . ? " she cried out . Her body yearned for him . " For now , " he said . " Pleasures of the flesh are nothing beside what we might have together . I would have you think on what I have just said . " " I don ' t need to think . What must we do ? What preparations must be made ? " " Why - - none . The mines may not be entered freely , it is true . But with the Queen at my side , who will stand athwart ? Once below I can guide you to where this thing lies , and lift it from its resting place . " Then the memory of her endless studies slid into place . " The Horn of Summoning , " she whispered in awe . " Is it true ? Could it be ? How do you know ? I ' ve read that it ' s buried beneath the measureless caves of Daggerfall . " " Nay , long have I studied this matter . Ere his death King Edward gave the Horn for safekeeping into the hand of his old friend King Moraelyn . He in turn secreted it here in Mournhold under the guardianship of the god Ephen , whose birthplace and bailiwick this is . Now you know what it has cost me many a long year and weary mile to discover . " " But the god ? What of Ephen ? " " Trust me , Milady heart . All will be well . " Laughing softly , he blew her a last kiss and was gone . On the morrow they passed the guards at the great portals that led into the mines , and further below . Under pretence of her customary tour of inspection , Barenziah , unattended but for the Nightingale , ventured into cavern after subterranean cavern . Eventually they reached what looked like a for gotten sealed doorway , and upon entering found that it led to an ancient part of the workings , long aban doned . The going was treacherous for some of the old shafts had collapsed , and they had to clear a passage through the rubble or find a way around the more impassable piles . Vicious rats and huge spiders scurried here and there , sometimes even attacking them . But they proved no match for Barenziah ' s firebolt spells or the Nightingale ' s quick dagger . " We ' ve been gone too long , " Barenziah said at length . " They ' ll be looking for us . What will I tell them ? " " Whatever you please , " the Nightingale laughed . " You are the Queen , aren ' t you ? " " The Lord Symmachus - - " " That peasant obeys whoever holds power . Always has , always will . We shall hold the power , Milady love . " His lips were sweetest wine , his touch both fire and ice . " Now , " she said , " take me now . I ' m ready . " Her body seemed to hum , every nerve and muscle taut . " Not yet . Not here , not like this . " He waved around , indicating the aged dusty debris and grim walls of rock . " Just a little while longer . " Reluctantly , Barenziah nodded her assent . They resumed walking . " Here , " he said at last , pausing before a blank barrier . " Here it lies . " He scratched a rune in the dust , his other hand weaving a spell as he did so . The wall dissolved . It revealed an entrance to some ancient shrine . In the midst stood a statue of a god , hammer in hand , poised above an admantium anvil . " By my blood , Ephen , " the Nightingale cried , " I bid thee waken ! Moraelyn ' s heir of Ebonheart am I , last of the royal line , sharer of thy blood . At Morrowind ' s last need , with all of Elvendom in dread peril of their selves and souls , release to me that guerdon which thou guardst ! Now I do bid thee , strike ! " At his final words the statue glowed and quickened , the blank stone eyes shone a bright red . The mas sive head nodded , the hammer smote the anvil , and it split asunder with a thunderous crash , the stone god itself crumbling . Barenziah clapped her hands over her ears and crouched down , shaking terribly and moaning out loud . The Nightingale strode forward boldly and clasped the thing that lay among the ruins with a roar of ecstasy . He lifted it high . " Someone ' s coming ! " Barenziah cried in alarm , then noticed for the first time what it was he was hold ing aloft . " Wait , that ' s not the Horn , it - - it ' s a staff ! " " Indeed , Milady . You see truly , at last ! " The Nightingale laughed aloud . " I am sorry , Milady sweet , but I must leave you now . Perhaps we shall meet again one day . Until then . . . Ah , until then , Symmachus , " he said to the mail - clad figure who had appeared behind them , " she is all yours . You may claim her back . " " No ! " Barenziah screamed . She sprang up and ran toward him , but he was gone . Winked out of existence - - just as Symmachus , claymore drawn , reached him . His blade cleaved a single stroke through empty air . Then he stood still , as if taking the stone god ' s place . Barenziah said nothing , heard nothing , saw nothing . . . felt nothing . . . Symmachus told the half dozen or so Elves who had accompanied him that the Nightingale and Queen Barenziah had lost their way , and had been set upon by giant spiders . That the Nightingale had lost his footing and fallen into a deep crevice , which closed over him . That his body could not be recovered . That the Queen had been badly shaken by the encounter and deeply mourned the loss of her friend , who had fallen in her defense . Such was Symmachus ' presence and power of command that the slack - jawed knights , none of whom had caught more than a glimpse of what happened , were convinced that it was all exactly as he said . The Queen was escorted back to the palace and taken to her chamber , whereupon she dismissed her servants - in - waiting . She sat still before her mirror for a long time , stunned , too distraught even to weep . Symmachus stood watching over her . " Do you have any idea at all what you have just done ? " he said finally - - flatly , coldly . " You should have told me , " Barenziah whispered . " The Staff of Chaos ! I never dreamed it lay here . He said - - he said - - " A mewling escaped her lips and she doubled over in despair . " Oh , what have I done ? What have I done ? What happens now ? What ' s to become of me ? Of us ? " " Did you love him ? " " Yes . Yes , yes , yes ! Oh my Symmachus , the gods have mercy on me , but I did love him . Did . But now . . . now . . . I don ' t know . . . I ' m not sure . . . I . . . " Symmachus ' hard - lined face softened slightly , and his eyes glittered with new light , and he sighed . " Ai . That ' s something then . You will become a mother yet if it ' s within my power . As for the rest - - Barenziah , my dearest Barenziah , I expect you have loosed a storm upon the land . It ' ll be a while yet in the brewing . But when it comes , we ' ll weather it together . As we always have . " He came over to her then , and stripped her of her clothing , and carried her to the bed . Out of grief and longing , her enfeebled body responded to his brawny one as it never had before , pouring forth all that the Nightingale had wakened to life in her . And in so doing calming the restless ghosts of all he had destroyed . She was empty , and emptied . And then she was filled , for a child was planted and grew within her . As her son flourished in the womb , so did her feeling toward patient , faithful , devoted Symmachus , which had been rooted in long friendship and unbroken affection - - and which now , at last , ripened into the fullness of true love . Eight years later they were again blessed , this time with a daughter . Directly after the Nightingale ' s theft of the Staff of Chaos , Symmachus had sent urgent secret communiques to Uriel Septim . He had not gone himself , as he would normally have , choosing instead to stay with Barenziah during her fertile period to father a son upon her . For this , and for the theft , he suf fered Uriel Septim ' s temporary disfavor and unjust suspicion . Spies were sent in search of the thief , but the Nightingale seemed to have vanished whence he had come - - wherever that was . " Dark Elf in part , perhaps , " said Barenziah , " but part human too , I think , in disguise . Else would I not have come so quickly to fertility . " " Part Dark Elf , for sure , and of ancient Ra ' athim lineage at that , else he would not have been able to free the Staff , " Symmachus reasoned . He turned to peer at her fixedly . " I don ' t think he would have lain with you . As an Elf he did not dare , for then he would not have been able to part from you . " He smiled . Then he turned serious once more . " Ai ! He knew the Staff lay there , not the Horn , and that he must teleport to safety . The Staff is not a weapon that would have seen him clear , unlike the Horn . Praise the gods at least that he does not have that ! It seems all was as he expected - - but how did he know ? I placed the Staff there myself , with the aid of the rag - tail end of the Ra ' athim Clan who now sits king in Castle Ebonheart as a reward . Tiber Septim claimed the Horn , but left the Staff for safekeeping . Ai ! Now the Nightingale can use the Staff to sow seeds of strife and dissension wherever he goes , if he wishes . Yet that alone will not gain him power . That lies with the Horn and the ability to use it . " " I ' m not so sure it ' s power the Nightingale seeks , " Barenziah said . " All seek power , " Symmachus said , " each in our own way . " " Not I , " she answered . " I , Milord , have found that for which I sought . "