Chapter 11

Chapter 11

     As Brynjolf, Vex, and I walked through the double gates of Solitude, I was forcibly reminded of the very first time I had entered the city. 

     The same crowd talked among itself in low voices, the same air of expectation permeated the city, and Captain Aldis was there presiding over the execution just as he had at that of Roggvir, the guard who had allowed Ulfric to ride out of Solitude after killing the late High King Torygg.  Then, I had just looked on, since that was before I had met Ulfric or joined the Stormcloaks.  Now, I would try to save him.

     We mingled with the crowd, splitting up and drifting to different positions.  I hadn’t noticed the Breton from last night anywhere, and I figured he was still sleeping off the wine I had slipped into his drink.  Too bad.  He was going to miss the excitement. 

     Not for the first time I thanked the Divines for the rain that poured down like a waterfall.  Yes, I was soaked and freezing cold, but at least the deluge gave me an excuse to wear the hood of my wolf skin cloak low over my face.  I was probably better known in Solitude that most other cities, since I kind of helped conquer it….

     I swung around at a sudden outbreak of jeering, wiping drops of water out of my eyes.  Three guards were escorting two people through the crowd, pushing people rudely aside as they went. 

     The Breton I had interrogated the night before had said nothing about a second execution.  I watched them walk toward the steps to the platform, mind racing to calculate how this would factor into my plan.

     I positively hate it when people mess with my brilliant plans.

     The two were standing on the platform before my mind finally finished its train of thought and skidded to a halt at the conclusion that this really didn’t change the plan at all.  Still, I was a bit annoyed.  I prefer to know what’s going to happen before it does.

     I glanced across the crowd at Brynjolf, catching his eye.  He nodded and glanced at Vex.  I surreptitiously lifted my hand under my cloak and cast a ball of Magelight on the northern side of the tower where no one could see it. 

     Well, no one but Diivanah, anyway.  With a roar that rattled the stones beneath my feet and echoed off the walls, he landed with a thud on the section of wall over the gate.

     I had to admit, he knew how to make an entrance.  Wings raised, the spines on his back bristled like fur on a cat.  His jaws hung gaping open, a flicker of flame emanating from his throat.  Narrow reptilian eyes darted about as if he was singling out targets.  If I hadn’t known he was on our side I would probably be running for a building right now.

     It was a good thing I wasn’t running for a building, because everyone else was.  The crowd erupted into a mass of screaming and sprinting people, just like I had said it would.  The sounds escalated when Diivanah took off again, then died down slightly when he winged his way toward the palace.  The guards all took off running up the street after him, even the ones at the gate joining the scramble.

     It was actually a bit pathetic, really.  I had helped the captain of the guard in Solitude come up with new procedures in the event of a dragon attack upon Solitude, and mass hysteria wasn’t really in the plan.  It seemed that in the few years since Alduin the world had forgotten how dangerous dragons could be.  The city should actually thank me for giving it a long needed wakeup call.

     Unfortunately, the three guards had opted to stay with the prisoners rather than follow the rest up to the Blue Palace.  Well, unfortunately for them, anyway.

     I suddenly stopped in the act of drawing my sword, jaw dropping.  Delvin and the other prisoner were no longer standing behind the guards.  I spun to glance around the streets.  They must have escaped through the back way or the main gate during the confusion.  Trust Delvin to make good of an opportunity like that.  I snorted a laugh but also felt a little annoyed at the same time.  Again with ruining my plans….

     The three guards had just noticed their prisoners had disappeared.  Through the sheets of driving rain I saw them turning about like they expected to somehow see two people in a storm in a crowd of running people.  Although the crowd was thinning out, I realized.  I motioned to Brynjolf and took off for the cover of the watch tower in which the secret entrance was located. 

     How can an exit from a large city not be noticed if it’s in a watch tower?  There was a stone that pushed inward and acted as a handle down at the very bottom of the stairs.  It opened a door that couldn’t be seen when it was shut.  I wouldn’t have known it was there at all if Vex hadn’t shown me while we were on a job in Solitude. 

     There were a few terrified people taking shelter in the tower, but I maneuvered through them and slipped down the stairs discreetly.  At the bottom I stopped to wait for Vex and Brynjolf.  “Delvin snuck off when Diivanah first attacked,” I told them quickly.  “Split up, head for Riften, and regroup there.”

     Both nodded, and Vex silently pressed my hand as she pushed past.  I followed them out and headed right along the road back toward the Solitude stables, while Brynjolf and Vex headed toward our camp site.  I knew they would stay there for an hour or so to give me a head start, then head up the road themselves.  Past the stables was the only bridge along the river for miles.  The only other ways across were to swim or rent a boat. 

     Gormlaith was faithfully waiting for me at the stables like usual.  It never failed to amaze me how she knew what location I was at, no matter where I traveled.  If it was somewhere she could reach, she was always waiting.  I swung onto her back, threw a couple coins to the stable master, and rode down the road to Dragon Bridge.  Dragon Bridge was actually the name of the town, not the bridge, but the town was named after the bridge.  The massive stone bridge got its name from the ribs of stone that ran along each side, making the whole structure look somewhat like the ribcage of one of the great beasts, and the archway over which hung two carved stone dragon heads.  I rode beneath them, wondering when the bridge had been built.  Surely sometime during the Second Era, if not before.

     Turning Gormlaith a bit to avoid a horse and wagon coming the opposite way, I pondered what I would do next.  The successful rescue had boosted my flagging spirits and made me feel like maybe I hadn’t destroyed the world yet after all.  Miraak may be powerful, but he was only one… man?  Whatever.  He could be killed, and just because I had failed to do so once didn’t mean it would happen again.  And the next time I faced him, I would have help.

     Finding him was still a problem.  He could very literally be anywhere.  He could have just taken off his mask and gotten lodging at an inn, or maybe he was perched on Skuldafn.  Wherever he was, he was plotting something.  What, I wasn’t sure of yet, but something. 

     What would I do? I wondered.  If I was planning to attempt to conquer a country, I would first find allies.  Miraak could control dragons, so most likely he would be visiting some dragon roosts sooner or later.  But if he wanted to really rule, he would also need human allies.  I thought about that for a few minutes, turning the idea around in my head.  The Thieves’ Guild wouldn’t back him, obviously.  I couldn’t see the Dark Brotherhood doing so either; that wasn’t their style.  Obviously the honor obsessed Companions would never even contemplate such a thing.  The Mages’ College of Winterhold I knew almost nothing about, other than that mages lived there.  Everything I knew about magic was self-taught.  Miraak with a group of wizards behind him….  I shivered, partly from the thought and partly because Gormlaith had just exited the warmth of the region that was kept free of snow by the sheltering mountains around Solitude.

     No, Miraak would find very little support from the various guilds that operated in Skyrim.  The Forsworn or even just common bandits were another matter, however.  I had worked with the king of the Forsworn once out of necessity.  He had told me at our parting in no small words that if we crossed paths again I was fair game.  The King in Rags had no love for any of Skyrim’s peoples, and he might just relish the chance to mount a real offensive against them. 

     Of course, he would just as likely turn around and stab Miraak in the back as soon as possible, so that was something to be thankful for, I suppose.

     Gormlaith stumbled a bit down an incline, and I gripped a little tighter with my legs and directed her a little more southeast.  All these problems could be avoided if I could just find Miraak quickly and kill him.  Obviously I either needed help or a good strategy to kill him, and I thought I knew where I could find both.  There was one being I knew who might know something about Miraak that could help me.

     Paarthurnax, a dragon who was ancient even among his kind, was one of the few dragons with which I was on speaking terms.  He had been Alduin’s lieutenant in the Dragon War in the Merethic Era but had renounced his affiliation with the black dragon and turned against him, teaching mankind to Shout.  He resided at the top of High Hrothgar-

     Ugh.  I just realized that if I visited him I would have to climb the Seven Thousand Steps and then some more to reach the Throat of the World.  I let out an explosively exasperated sigh, causing Gormlaith to shy slightly.  Patting her neck to reassure her, I wondered if I really had time for that right now.  It would take me half the day to reach High Hrothgar, more to climb even farther up to where Paarthurnax made his home.  I would have to spend the night in the monastery with the Greybeards.  Before I even started the journey, actually, I would have to spend the night in Ivarstead, the town located at the base of the mountain.  It would take nearly three days to reach the town, seeing as it was even farther away from Solitude than Windhelm. 

     Basically, I was looking at a five day trip here.  I rubbed the saddle horn, feeling anxious and jumpy.  I had things to do, places to be, people to talk to… I didn’t have five extra days right now. 

     I forced my hand to stop moving and rest on the saddle and focused on slowing down my breathing and racing thoughts.  No, I really didn’t have anywhere better to be at all.  Paathurnax was my one lead on Miraak, and I needed to follow it up.  If it took five days, so be it. 

     Feeling only slightly reassured, I spurred Gormlaith into a trot that she could sustain for hours.  Today I would ride around Morthal to the southwest, skirting the dangerous marshes that surrounded it completely, then swing more to the east to reach Whiterun.  Tonight I would spend in the wilderness, but tomorrow I should be able to sleep in my own house. 

     After a few hours the rain finally slacked off, lessening first to a drizzle then clearing up altogether.  It was about time, but also too late.  I was already thoroughly soaked and miserably cold, and the deep seated ache in my shoulder that had somehow not been healed started up again in response. 

     By skirting the marsh I also avoided the dangerous creatures that lived there.  Nothing happened for the rest of the day, and I set up camp in a sheltering alcove of rock mostly out of the wind.  The next morning dawned cold and windy but thankfully clear.  The sun shone wanly down, provided little more warmth than if it was still behind the clouds.

     I had left the road to avoid the swamp, and decided against picking it back up again.  My questing had taken me to many places roads did not pass, so I knew the wilds of Skyrim just as well as the main roads. 

     Gormlaith trudged onward, head bowed against the cold northern wind.  I felt much the same and pulled the black Nightingale cloak tighter around me, wishing my wolf skin cloak wasn’t still soaked.  A gust of wind blew right in my face and I wiped tears out of my eyes, caused the trees to blur into streaks of green.  I blinked hard, and when I opened my eyes again there were several black figures barring the path. 

     Gormlaith halted, snorting, and I rubbed at my eyes again, harder this time.  They cleared enough for me to see the people of various races and genders blocking my way.

     “Is there a problem?” I asked mildly, already sure they were bandits.  I took a quick head count and placed it at five seven bandits, all of them armed.  They hadn’t yet drawn their weapons.

     “Well yes, there is,” one replied.  I guessed she was the leader.  “See, we don’t have much money and you seem to be a well to do traveler.  If you gave us all your money the problem might go away,” she said suggestively, fingering a mace.

     I could fight all five and probably win.  Actually, I’d go so far as to say I’d definitely win.  But why go with hand-to-hand combat and chance possible injury when you can throw all your enemies down a hill with very little effort?

     “Fus… Ro Dah!” I Shouted.

     Nothing happened.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter.  It felt kind of awkward to write, which is why I took so long to post it -_-  I noticed like three gaping plot holes and had to rewrite parts to fix it.  So anyway, comments and votes are always appreciated!  And by the way, Merry Christmas!  This update is your present from me xD