Chapter Six: Working for the Legion
It didn't occur to me how exhausting traversing the wilds of Skyrim would be. I had just taken a carriage ride from Solitude to Windhelm and back, a journey that covered a little over half the size of the country and still I found myself more than a bit tired. Granted, I had killed a dragon, fought a spriggan, and emptied my Magicka reserves more than a few times. Regardless, I was under the assumption that Skyrim would be a touch more like home.
While I was annoyed at the Commander's lack of faith in my abilities, I planned on taking advantage of the perks. After my long journey to “Riften”, where he assumed I went, he allowed me a few hours of extra sleep the next day. I didn't dare argue with him. I made sure to down a full vial of healing potion before I laid down to aid in whatever wounds still remained from my adventures in Windhelm. Gaius even brought me a bottle of Black-Briar Mead, compliments of Faida, to help me sleep. As much as I hated drinking, I downed the whole thing.
I slept soundly through the night with both the potion and poison in my system. I don't remember Gaius waking up to meet with Faida and begin his chores, nor do I remember my uncle bringing in my morning rations. What woke me was the sudden, loud clap of thunder that was followed immediately by a freezing, violent wind tearing through the flaps of my tent. I felt myself jerk awake at the noise, though I refused to sit up in the cot for several moments. My eyes stared at the heavy flaps that waved in the wind until it died down enough for them to return to their normal vertical position. I felt a groan leave my throat as I forced myself to finally get out of bed.
As I dressed, I took careful notes on the condition of my wounds. None of them hurt anymore, so I was thankful, but the burns and boils had already scarred awfully. My armor, I noticed, also had some nice scorch marks burned into the leather. They would work for the time being, but I assumed my uncle would want me to have them fixed or replaced soon. It wasn't as if he was worried they would cause problems for me in battle. As far as he knew, I wouldn't be in combat with anyone or anything for the rest of the duration of our stay. Rather, he wanted me to look proper and presentable. Our guild needed to remind everyone who we were after all, but mostly General Tullius.
After dressing, I hesitantly walked out of the tent. I was greeted again by the crash of thunder, but luckily the rain seemed to be a ways off. Out of the protection of my quilt, the wind cut me to the bone. My armor seemed to have little to no effect in protecting me from it. When it actually did begin to rain, I knew I was going to be freezing. Since that was the weather during the warm months, I was absolutely dreading the cold ones.
I made my way into town, noticing the hustling and bustling of the townspeople. They didn't seem to mind the impending storm one bit. I knew the loggers would still work through the rain in their covered mill. The merchants and fletchers would continue selling wares to the passersby, and when business slowed, they could simply count their coin and inventory. The farmers and hunters would only be slowed in the storm, but if they really wanted they could call it a day and sit in Four Shields Tavern and entertain themselves. Life continued for the people of Skyrim regardless of the obstacle. That was something to be admired.
When I reached the Outpost, I saw Epona tied to the front rail along with the rest of our herd. I expected her to be nervous and wild-eyed with the weather, but she was too preoccupied with the large bales of wheat and barley lined in front of her to pay it mind. Along with the other horses, she was munching down on the snack relentlessly. She acknowledged me with a slight twitch of her ears before continuing her buffet. I tutted in amusement as I climbed the steps to the porch and walked in front of her, leaning against the rail. “As much as you eat, I'd think you'd have some weight on you by now.” The mare raised her head and I gently rubbed her cheek. Lightning flashed above us, startling me, but having no effect on her as she began to eat again. I laughed, “I guess if we're going to be traveling a lot I'll have to have food on me at all times.”
My uncle's deep voice caught me off guard. “Gaius and I both noticed she only acts brave around food.” I turned to look at him, seeing him sitting at a table behind me, cornered between the wall and the porch railing. “Gaius is the one that actually suggested giving them food bales to help them stay. It's working so far.” He shifted his gaze from the horse towards me. “What do you mean you're 'going to be traveling a lot'?”
I felt my chest tighten, but I tried not to appear as though the question caught me off guard. I thought quickly, but spoke slow, “I figured we'll be traveling to and from Solitude a lot. It's not that far, but regardless she's likely to spook on the road.”
He nodded slightly. “I suppose, but you wouldn't be riding alone anyway. She does well with other horses around.” I was unable to stop the discontented sigh that left my lips. He frowned at me, asking, “What, Talia?”
I shook my head. “Nothing, Uncle,” I tried dismissing, turning to face Epona again. I could hear the man shuffle slightly behind me, his fingers tapping the wooden table rhythmically. I forced myself to look back at him, immediately meeting his concerned but slightly annoyed expression. His boot pushed out the chair across from him and he pointed to the seat. There would be no dismissing this conversation. I sighed softly again as I walked over, forcing myself to take a seat across from him. “Yes, sir?” I asked softly.
“Something is bothering you. Is it something I said?” he asked, staring me down to try and read my expression.
I hesitantly nodded. “Do you not think I'm capable of carrying out normal orders?” I glanced up at him, frowning at his confusion. “You seem to think I can only carry out courier assignments or else I need an escort. It's obvious you don't hold me to the same standards as the others.”
My uncle seemed stunned by my words. “That isn't true at all! You're a great soldier, Talia.” He offered a kind smile. “I didn't mean to come across as condescending. You are just as capable as the others, I just prefer giving you,” he paused to consider his words, “simpler tasks- jobs with a slightly lower degree of danger.”
I pursed my lips as I listened. “Why is that?”
He reached his hand across the table to grab mine. “You and Gaius are the most important people in the world to me. You're the only children I have. I don't want to lose either one of you. I know it might seem unfair, but I limit what I allow you two to do. Gaius gets a little bit more freedom, because he's older, but I really am more protective of you both. I suppose that's my flaw.”
I sighed softly, unable to stop myself from the gentle smile that tugged my lips. “It's not a flaw. It's you being a good father.” He chuckled and I continued, “Far better than my own. I like to think of you as my real one anyways- you've done more for me than he ever did.”
Uncle Oritius took a deep breath. “I am honored, but you shouldn't just forget him. I still hold out hope he'll come back to see you.” He didn't like talking bad about my father because he didn't want me to think poorly of him. I appreciated it, especially when I was little and wanted to hold on to what little I had of my old life, but as I grew I realized he wasn't the person I hoped he was. I pursed my lips at his words, simply staring at my uncle. He smiled again, though it reflected his sympathies. “Of course, I will always strive to be better than him.”
I couldn't help myself as a soft giggle left my lips. “You've always been better than him. You didn't abandon us.”
“And I never will,” he assured, leaning across the table towards me with pursed lips. I hummed as I leaned forward as well, letting him kiss my forehead. He brushed the bangs out of my face and stared at me with his beautiful, kind eyes. “I will always love you like my own, alright? Nothing you could ever do will change that.”
The pain of guilt in my chest made my smile falter. I wondered how true that was. I couldn't help but ask myself how far his love would go if he knew I planned on working for the Stormcloaks. I doubted he would still claim me once the blood of my own race began to soak my hands. As I continued to stare into those dark brown eyes, it was like a thousand daggers diving into my chest and cutting through my heart. There was nothing that broke me more than the thought of possibly having to kill the man before me. I felt my body tremble and tears fill my eyes. He noticed my change of demeanor and started to speak. I cut him off, attempting to calm myself, “You mean it?”
“With all my heart,” he responded, but that somehow didn't make me feel better. He stood again and walked over to stand beside me. “Are you okay?”
I couldn't answer a moment with my brain screaming so many different things at me. I finally cleared my mind enough to answer, “Yes, sir. I-I think everything recently just has me a little shaken.” It was only a partial lie, so I was okay with that. I looked up at him and forced a small smile again. “I miss home. It's a little more dragon and Dark Brotherhood free.”
He huffed in amusement. “That it is.” He looked behind me as we heard the shuffling of feet on the cobblestone road. “We'll be back before we know it though.” As his eyes narrowed, I turned around as well. An Imperial Legion Courier ran down the road at full speed. I couldn't tell if he was in that much of a hurry or if he just wanted to get to our outpost before the rains began to pour. Uncle Oritius grumbled, “What does Tullius want now?”
The courier only slowed when he approached the steps. He gasped, out of breath as he paced in front of them several times, holding his hands above his head to open up his lungs. My uncle approached, and out of habit I followed. We stood at the top of the few steps, watching him several seconds as he tried to catch his breath. I smirked slightly as I joked, “Can the Legion not afford horses after paying the General's salary?”
My uncle looked amused, but the look he gave me told me to avoid joking. After all, I really didn't need to give them another reason to hate me. He looked back at the man, “Commander Oritius Maro,” he saluted as he introduced himself. “Can I help you?”
The courier nodded, handing him the letter. He spoke breathlessly, “This is from the general himself. He also requests to speak to you in person.”
As he took the letter, I asked, “Wouldn't it have made more sense to just include everything in the letter? It would have saved you both some time and resources.”
My uncle shrugged. “That's not really Tullius' concern.” He began to open the letter, but stopped to look at the courier. “Thank you. Why don't you wait out this storm at the Four Shields? Faida will treat you to some food and drink as well.”
The man looked surprised, but didn't hesitate in dismissing himself. I watched him only a moment or two more before putting my attention back on my uncle. He unsealed the letter and began reading, his expression remaining stoic. “What is it?” I asked softly.
He glanced at me before shaking his head. “Nothing, Talia. Don't worry about it.” He looked at my as I let my annoyance be known with a low grumble. He chuckled softly, “I'm only not telling you because I don't want you to worry, not because I don't think you can handle it. Remember?”
I drew a deep breath and nodded, “Right.” My tone was still annoyed, but he seemed to be more amused than anything. I looked back up the road from us towards Solitude. “Think you'll make it to Castle Dour before the rain?”
He hummed. “I better try.” He started to step down, folding the letter and putting it in his pouch. He paused midway, however, turning to face me. “Unless, you want to go for me?”
I raised a brow. “To talk to Tullius?” I asked, scoffing. “That will go over well.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “We really need to improve your standing with him. If you went for me and conducted yourself well, I'm sure it will impress him.” As I began to contemplate the idea, he added, “I thought you wanted to start doing important missions. This might be a good place to start.”
I held back a comment on how it sounded a lot like another courier assignment and just took a moment to think. I knew Tullius was going to be in an awful mood because that's just who he was naturally, but part of me knew I could get some information for Jarl Ulfric. I found it odd how anxious I was to get some information to him. “Alright,” I responded, “I'll go for you.” I smiled softly. “I think it will be fun.”
My uncle put his hands on my shoulders. “Please, I beg you, please, be on your best behavior around Tullius. I need you to try to improve your relationship with him.”
I gave him a grin. “I will do my best, Commander.”
He took a deep breath, looking up at the darkening skies. “Gods help me.” I laughed lightly and he looked down at me. “Be brave. Be smart. Be kind. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” I responded more seriously. He let go of my shoulders and patted my cheek before walking past and going inside the building. I stayed put a moment more to study the skies. As I walked to Epona, I muttered, “We are not going to make it before it begins to pour.” The horse lifted her head as if she understood and nickered softly.
The thunder overhead acted as if it understood as well. It taunted me, threatening to open up the heavens at any moment as I mounted the horse and started down the road. Epona's hoof beats on the road were louder in the dead silent stillness of the forests to Solitude. As eerie as it was, I enjoyed that calm that proceeded the storm. The scent was clean and usually sweet from the flower fragrance that drifted on the strong winds. Tingles traveled up my spine and down my arms in an almost comforting way, enveloping me in a blanket of peace. Contrarily, my heart beat quickly in my chest as the fear of getting caught up in the storm was looming in the back of my mind. It was an odd combination of emotions, but one of my favorites.
Fortunately for us, Epona and I did make it to the Solitude stables before I felt the first few drops of rain on my face. I put her in the stable and started to walk towards the main house to pay when I spotted the kid who I entrusted Epona to before. He sat under the awning beside the house, propped up against one of the storage barrels. I walked over, smiling at him. He seemed happy to see me again as well. “Mind taking care of her again? I shouldn't be long this time.”
“Of course, miss!” He called out, quickly getting to his feet. “I love taking care of her. She's so pretty. And funny too!”
I giggled in response. “You don't have to stand out here in the rain with her though. Just give her some hay and she'll stay put.”
“Oh, I don't mind. Besides, it's not like I have any where else to be.” He hummed happily as he walked over to her, but the way he said it raised some questions in my mind. “I'll let Katla know when she comes home and you can pay her when you come back.”
I slowly nodded. “Thank you,” I muttered, ruffling his dirty hair before walking up the road towards the gate. It bothered me that the kid was always alone, and seemed to practically run the farm. He seemed sweet enough. He always beamed when he saw me, as if he was lonely and I was one of the few that actually paid him attention. I knew there were more pressing things to be concerned about, but the thought lingered in my mind.
The rain was steadily increasing in force, so I made sure to keep my pace brisk. I doubted Tullius would be thrilled I was coming, so it wouldn't be any surprise if he made it an ordeal I came in soaking wet. I tried to stick to walking under the shop porches and awnings, but it couldn't be helped when I had to walk up the ramp to reach the higher levels of the castle. As I stood outside one of the shops, contemplating if I should sprint through the rain and risk humiliating myself by slipping, I heard a Nordic voice from the shop behind me. “You don't look like the Commander.”
I turned to face the female, smiling slightly as I remembered seeing her before. “There's a few differences,” I joked, “but I think I'm close enough.” I bowed my head slightly as I saluted her. “Legate Rikke,” I reaffirmed.
She nodded, looking amused at me. She saluted in return before bringing her arm down. “You're Talia, right? The commander's daughter?”
“Yes, ma'am,” I responded, lowering my hand as well. I didn't bother correcting her. My uncle had insinuated I was his own, and I wasn't going to waste time explaining our family dynamic. Besides, it felt nice being recognized as such. “I didn't think you'd remember me.”
She held back a small snort of laughter. “Not many people dare to stand up to Tullius. I made a point to remember you. Granted, I only recognized your armor at first.”
I smirked at her remark before shrugging. “I don't like a bully, and the moment I saw him I had the overwhelming feeling that's what he was. Unfortunately, I won't be as confident speaking to him today. My uncle wants me to try and improve our standing.”
“That's understandable,” Rikke responded. “Tullius is boastful and harsh and comes off as stuck up, I won't lie, but he honestly is a good man. He has the empire's best interest at heart. He just gets wound up too easily and doesn't think things through all the way. I suppose that's why he has me. I help him stay level-headed.”
I scoffed slightly. “Are you saying that because you believe it, or are you saying that because you want me to believe it?”
She smiled at me. “I'm saying it because I love him.” I flinched slightly as she spoke. When she started walking into the rain, I followed close behind, studying her to try and understand what she meant. She continued, “I know who he is when he isn't in uniform. I know what he believes and why he's doing what he's doing. I don't agree with him on everything, but I support him regardless.”
“Is that what you suggest I do? Support him even if I don't agree?” I asked.
She hummed in thought. “You seem to have a respect for me. We seem to be alike in a lot of ways, including standing up to Tullius' attitude.” I nodded, smiling slightly as she continued, “So, if you can't support and trust Tullius, just support and trust me. It's a round about way, but same concept.”
I laughed again. “I don't think that's how it works, Legate Rikke, but I'll give it a try.”
She giggled as well. “If all else fails, just smile and nod. Acting like a man expects you to gets you through almost any situation. It's a woman's oldest trick to play dumb and sit pretty. They never suspect you're up to anything.”
I snorted, “Is that so?”
“Aye,” she grinned back at me as we approached the entrance. “Of course, we're women of rank. They'd be the dumb one's to suspect we aren't up to something.”
At our approach, the guards outside the door saluted the Legate and opened the doors for us. We thanked them only with a nod before walking inside, hurrying to get out of the rain. It was much warmer inside thanks to the multiple fireplaces in the main room that warmed the entire tower of the castle. The big table down the hall hosted a map held in place with daggers and pins. I followed Rikke towards it, somewhat surprised Tullius wasn't waiting there. I hummed slightly, “Was he not expecting us?”
Rikke frowned. “I thought he was. Wait here, please.” She instructed, walking down the hall again and heading up the stairs.
I watched her until she was no longer in sight before looking over the map. I examined it closely, trying to interpret what I saw. I realized the pins laid out where camps were hidden. Most of them were in red, which I assumed were Legion ones. Some of them were in blue, and I questioned whether or not they were known or suspected Stormcloak ones. Beside the map, there were a couple letters, spare parchment, and an ink well and quill. I checked my surroundings making sure I wasn't in the sight of anyone before picking up the letters and scanning over them. Most weren't useful. They contained the complaints of Tullius to the generals of various camps and cities. Some, however, were orders and movements of the Legion. Knowing I would likely forget most of the information, I quickly began jotting down notes on one of the spare pages. I wrote down the names of Legates and their camps as well as the orders given. On the back side of the page, I sketched the map of Skyrim and dotted where the camps were. All the while, I continued checking the hall for coming soldiers or worse, Tullius himself.
Rikke's absence gave me enough time to copy what I could from the letters and map and scan it again for camps I might have forgotten. My eyes suddenly rested on on a tiny blue pin in the mountains outside of Windhelm. It was just the right distance to be Mara's Eye Pond. I string of panic ran through me as I stared at the dot, remembering the faces of those I had healed not that long ago. I couldn't stop my hand as I reached out and quickly took the pin from the spot. I started to move it to another, but I lingered too long. I heard Tullius' voice bark from the doorway, “Why in Oblivion are you touching my table?!”
I turned to face him pin still in my fingertips. I silently gulped as I struggled to come up with a response off the top of my head. “I... I was just...” I looked at the blue tipped pin and then back at the map. “I was trying to mark a camp I found on my way back from Helgen. That's what this is right? A map of the camps?”
Tullius didn't look convinced as he stormed over to me. I backed away slowly, discretely sliding my hand across the table and wadding up the piece of parchment that I had written on. He didn't notice, too busy glaring down at me at an attempt of intimidation. “Who do you think you're fooling? I'm not an idiot.”
Rather than give him the “could have fooled me” quip that almost left my lips, I shook my head. “I am well aware, sir. I was only trying to help. The camp is right outside of Helgen. It's where I took Ulfric.”
The man pulled the pin from my hand and turned back to look at Rikke. While they were both distracted, I pocketed the page and held my hands respectfully behind my back. “Do we even have any reports of Stormcloak activities near Helgen?”
Rikke nodded, almost indignantly. “I have been telling you wagons near the pass have gone missing for weeks now.”
Tullius glanced back at me, slowly returning to the map. “Were there landmarks near the camp?”
I looked at the map spying the words “Orphan Rock” near to the camp. I smiled at him softly. “It was up the mountain from Helgen, but not quite to Orphan Rock.” I watched the man study the map before his hand lingering over it as he held the pin between his fingers. “Yes, sir. Right about there.”
As he placed the pin, he muttered, “Rikke, begin informing our nearest camp to take Helgen.”
“Do you think they'll try to take it, sir?” She asked in response, crossing her arms over her chest.
“It isn't strategic, but a city is a city. If they haven't thought of is, it would be a good idea for us to move in first.” Tullius looked at me with the softest scowl he had ever given me. “We appreciate the help, but if you touch my table again without permission I'll have you in the stocks. Am I clear?”
“Of course, sir,” I forced myself to respond. “It was a lapse in judgment and won't happen again.”
He huffed in response before muttering, “Right. Now, I didn't expect you to come in this storm, and I honestly didn't expect you to come at all. This was a conversation meant for your commander and that's all.” He crossed his arms. “That being said, you're here and I'd rather get this over with than wait for you people another day.”
His attitude made it hard to keep my composure, but I did better than I thought I would. “My uncle would be more than happy to come back another day, if you had something better to do. I am more than capable of carrying in his stead however. Whatever you want to do, General Tullius, is fine with us.”
“You'll do,” he responded gruffly. “We're expecting this war to start in earnest soon. I was hoping to end it before it actually began at Helgen, but you have ruined that for us.”
Rikke interjected, “A dragon did, Tullius, not her.”
He scoffed, “You understood what I meant. Regardless, I'm requesting for more Legionnaires to aid us. The Stormcloaks grow in number daily. There's no telling how many spies and sympathizers are in this city alone. We need numbers to win. Even if they never see battle, the sheer size of the army is sure to lower the enemies moral.”
I frowned slightly. “A fear tactic then?”
“It's worked well before,” he responded.
“Can you even house more men here? I assumed Castle Dour was operating at full capacity.”
He grumbled, “I'm not asking for an analysis from you, Maro. It's already been decided and the reinforcements are on their way from Cyrodiil and High Rock. They'll settle in fine.”
I drew a deep breath and shut my eyes a moment to think of a polite response. “Then what do you need from us, sir?” I glanced at Rikke. She faked a huge smile and pointed at it, reminding me of the prior conversation. I almost laughed in response, drawing a smile to my lips.
Confused, Tullius looked over his shoulder at Rikke. She just shrugged, making him roll his eyes. He continued, “I need the Penitus Oculatus to secure the routes here. It should be easy enough, as you already have the main road to Cyrodiil protected for your own men to travel here.”
I nodded, “We can do that. I'm just not seeing how helping you overstock your forces is going to help us bring the emperor here any sooner.”
The older Imperial clenched his fists. “I will not allow the emperor into Skyrim without this war being over. Regardless of what you think you can do to protect him, he will not be safe amid war. He cannot reason with Nords. They're too brutish and stubborn to see reason.”
“They're my people, General,” Rikke reminded, a small tremor of annoyance in her voice.
“Case in point,” he remarked, ignoring her angered growl. He looked back at me. “Your faction is helping me or you're getting no support from me further. Agreed?”
I didn't really have a choice so I simply nodded. He rambled on a little longer, but my eyes were fixed on Rikke. She seemed extremely hurt my his words, though she held her tongue. She was a Nord in her entirety, so I hadn't the slightest idea why she decided to stay under Tullius. She probably did love him. I couldn't see any other reason why she would stay around that man longer than necessary.
“General Tullius!” The cry of a soldier from the doorway drew all of our attentions. I heard the man start to reprimand his subordinate, but he stopped as he looked him over. The Imperial was soaked to the bone. He held his arm around his midsection that was stained red from his own blood. He trembled from the cold and blood loss, and was breathless from exertion. The soldiers that once stood at the door supported him on either side. The Imperial's face turned pale and his eyes were glossed. He managed two words before collapsing onto one of his comrades, “He escaped.”
“Talia!” Rikke called over to me, but I was already rushing to the soldier, removing my bracers as I did. I used one had to begin checking for his pulse while the other began casting the healing spell to try to stop the bleeding. As I worked, Rikke spoke, “Who escaped?”
The guard that had laid the dying man down shook his head. “I don't know. He came from the main gate. We didn't see anyone with him.”
Tullius grumbled, “I know.” Rikke turned to face him, looking for an answer. “An Orsimer from High Rock joined us a month or so ago. I suspected he was a sympathizer for the Stormcloaks though. He's had family in Skyrim for years, according to the sources. We interrogated him, but the torturer couldn't get anything out of him. He even broke out of his cell here in the tower. We had to move him to the holding cell by the gate.”
From Rikke's expression, I could tell she had as many questions as I did, but didn't want to ask. For several moments we sat in silence as I tried to find a pulse in the man. “I've got nothing,” I told them, slowly withdrawing my hands. “He's already gone.”
The general looked at the guards. “One of you fetch the Priest of Arkay and the other see if he killed anyone else.” As they rushed off to do their orders, I gently pulled the Imperial out of the way and laid him along the wall. I closed his eyes the rest of the way before looking back at Tullius and Rikke. He continued, “We have to kill the orc before he makes his way to one of the camps. He's probably injured from fighting his way out of the city, so we'll have a blood trail.”
Rikke frowned, “Not in this storm.” She looked down at the dead man. “He'll have to go through the swamps to avoid anymore fighting and it's complete suicide to follow him in this weather. The swamps are bad enough on a clear day. Visibility will be little to none.”
He frowned, “We need to ensure he dies. Send a squadron out there to cut him off.”
Rikke furrowed her brow and I could tell she was contemplating the how moral the mission would be. If it was as bad as she said, sending multiple people to their deaths was worse than just one. As I was wondering if she would really carry out such an insane task, the idea occurred to me that the orc might have more information to deliver to the Stormcloaks than I did. “General?” I asked, getting a glare in response. “Why don't you let me go? You won't have to waste resources that way.”
Rikke looked at me and then to Tullius. The older man looked me over as if trying to see my true motives in volunteering. “Now why would you want to go through a bug infested swamp in the middle of a freezing thunderstorm?”
“My uncle said I needed to help you in whatever way I could,” I lied. “I figured hunting a single soldier down was below both of your pay grades.”
“Normally I'd say such a gesture is brave,” he started, crossing his arms over his chest, “but in your case, I'll blame it on your stupidity.” As a bit down on my tongue to keep a straight face he started walking back towards the doorway. “You're right about one thing, though. Legate Rikke and I have better things to do than find a pig-head in the marsh. I'll just say that he better be dead before he reaches the camp. If anything gets out to the Stormcloaks about our activities, it's your hide that's on the line.”
“Yes, sir” I responded, saluting halfheartedly. My eyes glared at him as he disappeared down the hall and up the stairs. I scoffed when he was out of earshot. “My disdain grows more and more.” Rikke hummed in response, kneeling beside the dead man. She seemed upset at losing him, though the army was so big, I doubted she even knew his name. “I take it you didn't know Tullius had a prisoner?”
She shook her head. “There's a lot of things he keeps to himself, but I trust he has his reasons.”
I shook my head. “I've started to not like blind faith,” I stated as I glanced back over the map. “Or maybe it's just Tullius.”
She giggled in amusement. “At least he didn't complain about our wet clothes and your damaged armor. Normally he's a stickler about those things.”
I scoffed teasingly. “Just those things?”
Rikke rolled her eyes. “Get going, Talia. You're not going to be able to catch the orc before he disappears if you don't. He might be injured, but he's still going to be moving fast.”
“Yes, ma'am,” I responded, saluting her before walking towards the door. I glanced back to find her still kneeling on the floor and staring at the soldier. Her eyes reflected regret. I wanted to know what was going through her mind at that moment, but I found myself staying quite. I lingered in the doorway just a few moments before returning back into the freezing down pour.
I kept a good pace without running so I could avoid slipping and only slowed when I reached the shops again. Luckily, I didn't see any townspeople or guards dead in the courtyard. Further, I saw no signs of a struggle. I could see the city gate closed ahead, which had me curious as to where the orc had escaped. The holding cell was a small room built into the city wall. I was aware it had no other exits than the opening onto the executioner's stage. As I peered through the rain, I saw some guards on the top of the wall above the door. They were looking over the other side to where it dropped off.
Rather than join them, I decided to walk around and have a look from the ground. I went through the gate and followed the wall their direction. From where they stood at the top to the ground was an easy 5 meter drop onto the nearly sheer mountain face. I silently walk to the edge, just close enough to see the blood trail as it slowly washed away in the rain. The trail proved he landed and rolled down the rocks to more level ground. I followed, jogging down the hill in the rain past the stables and to the stone bridge below Solitude A faint blood trail from there showed the orc walked from where he landed to the middle of the bridge. From there, I gathered that he jumped.
It was brave, but also very stupid. There was no way in knowing how deep or shallow the water was below. He must have been desperate to avoid being captured to risk the jump. He knew something that he wanted to get into Stormcloak hands. I searched for him from the top of the bridge for a few seconds but realized it was pointless. The rain was too heavy and fog was too thick to see anything across the river. I realized I would actually have to cross in order to find him. The swim would soak whatever part of me the rain hadn't and increase my chances of freezing. Still, I told myself if the orc was willing to do it, I should have been to. I did, however,take a much less risky route by walking the rest of the way down the bridge and swimming across a thinner part to reach the gods-forsaken swamps.
I shivered from the cold upon emerging from the water. The Karth River stayed freezing even in the summer months from the ever flowing springs in the mountains. I knew however cold I was, the orc was much worse off. Weak from injuries and now the frozen grip of the river, I didn't see how he would last long on his own. Even if he had managed to get out of the river and into the swamps, the combination of predators, nightfall, and the treacherous terrain would kill him. Likely, it would kill me if I stayed too long myself.
I wandered up and down the banks for a good ten minutes before finding what I interpreted as footprints. From the water's edge, the tracks appeared as drag marks as he clawed his way from the waves. They turned into prints a short distance away, but were steadily washing away. His left side prints were lighter and slid across the top of the ground. It meant he was favoring that side and likely limping, or rather dragging, that leg. With an injury that severe, I knew he wouldn't have gotten far, but I didn't want to call out and risk Legionnaires or wild animals from hearing.
Tracking the orc through the marshes reminded me of home. While Cyrodiil didn't have many swamps, and certainly not any like Skyrim, I had plenty of adventures tracking animals across streams and plains with my family. Back in Anvil, my grandfather made his living selling furs and pelts of animals. Though he mostly hired people to do the hunting for him, he would take us all out on trips to learn skills he called “essential”. I learned hunting, fishing, scouting, and tracking from him on those trips. While my mother objected, he always told her that everyone needed to know how to live off the land, regardless of their trade. After a long day of learning, he, my grandmother, my mother, and I would cook what we hunted, talk about our day, and sleep under the stars. I used to hate going on those trips. I preferred sleeping in my comfy bed and not having to worry about the rain or the bugs. Now, I think I would give anything to go out there again. If I knew then that we were going to enjoy each other's company, or if I realized how limited my time with them would be, I wouldn't have taken it for granted. Even to this day, it hurts that I can only remember a handful of memories on those trips.
As the thunder and lightning slowly died away and the downpour became a much lighter drizzle, I picked up my pace. My confidence grew as I could see further ahead and more a bit more surely. Likewise, in the calming weather, his footprints became clearer in the mud. I studied them as I walked getting slightly worried as I saw they were getting more and more bunched together. His pace had slowed dramatically, as I assumed he was getting tired from the combination of pain and elements. I looked ahead of the tracks looking for his outline or any indication of where he could have gone.
Through the fog, I saw a deformed lump on the ground and recognized it as the orc. I saw him shift as if he was trying to push himself from the ground but had no energy. I drew closer and could hear the labored breathing from his lips. It was heavy enough to be mistaken for a panting horse. He was in severe pain, and very likely wouldn't rise again. Cautiously, I walked the rest of the way over, stopping just out of his reach. “Orsimer?”
The orc's head slowly turned to look at me and I could scarcely see his eyes from under his furrowed brow. “You Imperials are more persistent than I thought,” he growled.
I forced a small smile as I tried to appear less like a threat. “Only some of us,” I replied, slowly kneeling down across from him. “I don't think anyone was willing to come out here themselves to kill you.”
“You came,” he grumbled, the arm the propped him up slipping in the mud. He fell the rest of the way onto his back with a low grunt.
I frowned as I removed my gloves and bracers. “I didn't come to kill you,” I told him. “I'd like to get you back on your feet so you can make it to safety. You have information to get to the Stormcloaks don't you?”
He tried to get back up, but the mud seemed to be too strong an obstacle for his weakening body. He was covered in the thick, sticky dirt. I could see multiple injuries on his chest and hands that likely were caused by torture, but a huge gash on his upper thigh was the reason he couldn't walk. Blood dripped from the places in the wound that mud hadn't caked over. Despite being in his top form while in the Legion, the past few days must had taken a toll on him.
When he didn't answer me, I asked, “Will you let me heal your injuries? We'll be able to move much faster that way.”
“No,” he finally growled in response. “I don't like the magic stuff. If I live or if I die will depend on my own strength.”
“That's admirable, but what will happen if you don't reach the Stormcloaks before you die?” I asked softly. If there was any race that gave Nords a contest when it came to being stubborn, it was the Orsimer. I knew enough about them to know they were set in their ways, however tribal they were. Still, it hurt to watch him in pain, especially since he was bent on relying on his own resolve.
“Then I die,” he replied simply. “Are you going to patronize me until I die, or will you kill me soon?”
“I would prefer to help you, honestly,” I answered. He snarled at me, the distrust showing in his pain-filled eyes. I slowly opened my bag where I put the parchment I had written on. It was wet and some on the ink ran, but it was overall legible. I moved closer to show him the front and back. “I got all this information from Tullius' desk today. I'm working with the Stormcloaks to do what I can to help them. Just like you did, right?” When he didn't answer, I continued, “Do you trust me now?”
His bloodshot eyes glared at me before studying the page. His breathing continued just as labored as before as he laid his head back into the cold mud with a groan. “If I trust you or not makes no difference.”
I shook my head as I folded the paper again. “It makes all the difference. I can heal you enough to get you back on your feet and we can both make it to the Stormcloaks.”
The orc shook his head slightly. “Malacath decrees this is where I die.”
I pursed my lips as I listened to him, growing slightly impatient. “Malacath doesn't get to decide when you die. You do. I am more than capable of healing you, and you are more than capable of living another day. If you die here, it is your own choice to give up.”
The orc growled, peering up at me in equal annoyance. “Then I choose to die here.”
I scoffed slightly as I rose to my feet. “I thought you orcs had honor. There's no honor in this kind of death.” His brows furrowed as I continued, “I'm sure your Malacath has something to say about laying down and dying rather than putting up a fight. Let that me your last thoughts then.”
I started to turn as I heard his voice strengthen in his anger, “You have no right to tell me what honor is, Snow-back Traitor! An Imperial betraying her own kind isn't honorable!”
While his words stung, I simply drew a deep breath. I looked back at him before muttering, “At least I'm not accepting my death like a coward.”
The orc snarled at me, his sharp teeth glistening as they dripped raindrops from the tips. “Fine,” he hissed more than spoke. “Heal me.”
I nodded to him and knelt back down beside him. My hands shivered in the cold as I reached out towards him. My fingertips were numb as the warm light from the magic illuminated the palms of my hands. They tingled as the magic ran through them and into the wounds of his chest. I slowly made my way down his body, healing what I could with my reserves of Magicka. I could tell by the soft groans and grunts he was in pain, but enduring it well. I managed to heal all of his upper body injuries and almost completely seal off the bleeding in his thigh before I had to stop and rest. I took a deep breath as I sat on my rear. “I have to wait for my reserves to replenish, then I can heal you the re-”
I was cut off by my own involuntary squeal. The orc grabbed a hold of my leather collar, jerking me forwards into the mud as he pulled himself out. As I sat up again, I found him standing, towering over me by several feet. A low growl left his lips as he kicked mud at me again. “I don't need more healing. I can make it like this.” He crossed his arms over his chest as he scowled, “I ought to kill you, or at the least leave you out here to find your way out alone, but I don't think the Stormcloaks would think highly of that.”
I frowned as I wiped the mud off my face as best I could. “I appreciate that,” I grumbled sarcastically and started to strap on my bracers again. As I looked up I found him reaching his massive hand down to help me. Cautiously I took it and let him pull me to my feet.
“Morthal is another two miles south of here. We'll make it by dark if we don't run into any more problems,” he told me, not giving me a chance to thank him before he started walking again. I followed right behind him listening as he continued, “It's freezing, but at least the rain with keep the wolves and spiders in their holes.”
“Isn't Morthal under Legion control?” I asked, struggling to keep pace with his long strides. Now that he was feeling better, it was almost impossible to follow without jogging.
“Yes,” he responded simply. He elaborated when he sensed my confusion, “All cities have people working for both sides. You just have to know who to talk to.”
I hummed slightly, considering what he said. “I'm not sure how we'll slip into the city unnoticed. A Penitus Oculatus agent and a beaten down orc will likely draw attention. Assuming we actually make it there without getting lost or attacked.”
The orc nodded in understanding. “I know the way,” he affirmed. “As for getting in, we'll think of something.” I couldn't believe he actually smiled at me as he teased, “You just try to keep up with me, Short One.”
I smirked back at him. “My name is Talia.”
The orc hummed slightly. “My name is Drablek gro-Burtan, but you can call me Dra.”
“Dra?” I questioned, reaffirming I heard him correctly.
“Yes. It is much simpler for the other races to say.” He continued trudging forward, adding, “That being said, I will still call you Short One. It fits you quite well.”
~ ~ ~
After hours of walking and annoying the Oblivion out of each other, the city of Morthal was within sight. It was nearly dusk so the town was only visible by the lights of the torches and fires set up strategically through the streets. The orc remained inside the swamps, letting me enter alone. We both reasoned that it would be less attention getting if a Legionnaire walked into the tavern as opposed to a bloodied, muddied orc prisoner. I was equally as dirty from the trek, but, thankfully, the tavern was near the entrance of the city and I wouldn't have to see many people. From my understanding, no one stayed in the inn that often anyways.
I entered the tavern to find it void of anyone but the inn keeper and the bard. It was odd to not even find a single drunkard willing to stay. I was given a hint as to why when I heard the bard begin to sing,
“Who enters our doors?
It's a lass, I do see!
She wears red and a sword,
to defend you and me!”
I forced a smile at him and started to speak before he cut me off again,
“A brutish young woman
with no book nor a quill.
She comes from the heartland,
from old Cyrodiil!”
I groaned slightly, thankful when I heard the innkeeper shout over his awful singing, “Lurbuk, can you shut up a minute before you start harassing our customers with your screeching?” She huffed as she walked over to me. “I'm sorry about him. He'd be kicked out of here if he hadn't paid.”
The orc bard grinned at her. “Jonna, don't act like you don't enjoy my serenades. You're listening to history being made here.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” she grumbled before smiling at me. “Now, what can I get you, dear?”
I laughed softly before resting my hands on my waist. “I was told the two of you could help me with something.” They both seemed interested and I continued, “A friend and I are in need of a ride to Windhelm. We have letters to be delivered to a mutual friend of the both of us.”
The two looked between each other before looking back at me suspiciously. “I'm afraid we don't know what you're talking about, Imperial,” the orc grumbled, crossing his arms and letting his lute hang from his fingers. “We aren't a carriage company, and why would we want to take you to Windhelm?”
I guessed they were playing dumb for their own safety, so I quietly dug in my bag and produced the copy of Tullius' map I had drew. I handed it to Jonna and watched her look it over before talking to the orc. “She's safe.”
The orc hummed before smiling at me. “A little spy, huh?” I scrunched up my nose as I smiled at his tease and he looked over at the door. “You mentioned a friend?”
“An orc, Drablek, escaped Tullius' prison today. I followed him into the swamps to make sure he made it here.” I told them, taking my map back from Jonna. “He looks pretty rough so he decided to stay out of sight.”
“Drablek?” The orc asked me, a little more excited than I anticipated. “gro-Burtan?” When I nodded, he chuckled happily. “He's finally coming home. I'll bring him some clothes and let him stay here if that's fine by you?” Lurbuk asked the woman beside me.
She nodded in response. “It's not like we'll have any other customers. Your singing likely scared everyone off. I wouldn't be surprised if he runs off in the hour too.” The orc chuckled as he disappeared into a different room to gather clothes. The woman started walking back over to the bar, addressing me. “We'll get the two of you food and drink and let you rest here for awhile before we send you on your way. It's the least we can do for you for risking your lives.”
I smiled as I followed her. “I truly appreciate it, Miss Jonna, but I'm not sure how safe it will be for either of us if I stay long.” I watched her pour a flagon of water, feeling my mouth water and throat constrict from thirst. I took it gratefully from her and downed most of it before pulling it from my lips.
She nodded slowly in understanding. As she set out more drinks for us as well as some of the food she kept in reserve, she muttered, “Regardless, take as much time as you need to recover before you head to Windhelm. It's a long trip. I'll ready you a horse to make the trip easier though.”
I thanked her and started to grab a sweet roll. She was almost out the door when a thought occurred to me. Jonna and Lurbuk risked a lot by even opening their doors to me. I was worried their hospitality would be met with wrath. I asked softly, “Will you get in trouble for this?”
She paused in the doorway with a smile. “Only if I get caught, I suppose.” She laughed softly as she added, “If I could fight in the war, I would. I like to think this is me doing my part to help out.”
I sighed. “I'll make sure you're paid back for all this, Jonna. I'd feel awful if I didn't.”
She shook her head. “You shouldn't. I've been wanting to help as long as I could, but there's no way to do it in this city. It's Legion controlled and in the middle of nowhere. I was starting to think I wouldn't be able to contribute to this war.”
I hummed slightly. “In that case, would you be willing to help more?” She raised a brow slightly so I continued, “Morthal is fairly close to Dragon Bridge. If I were able to get information from Tullius and get it to you, would you be able to get a courier to take it to Windhelm for me? It would be a lot quicker than me making trips to and from there all the time.”
She ran her fingers through her dark hair as she thought. I saw her lips move as she mumbled names to herself under her breath before looking back at me directly. “I think I can manage to do that for you. It gives me something to do and makes me feel important.” She laughed again, “At least things won't be boring around here anymore.”
I laughed softly as well as I thanked her once again as I watched her go out the door. When she was gone, I allowed myself to warm by the fire and finish the meal and drinks. It was probably the first full meal I had had since arriving in Skyrim. I also enjoyed letting my armor dry out a bit and getting the weight off my feet. I was exhausted from walking, so I was thankful I would be getting a horse to take to Windhelm.
As I rested, I looked over the map and information I wrote down again. It was all still legible, but I was glad I would be there to tell Ulfric what was written down myself. I didn't want him thinking I wrote so poorly all the time. I surprised myself how glad generally glad I was to be going back to Windhelm. I thought I would have been more upset with committing such a treason. After all, that simple piece of parchment was grounds for a death sentence. Still, I felt no regret in handing over that paper to the Stormcloaks. I considered Tullius' insufferable attitude to be the reason betraying him came so easy, but when I thought of all the good people that supported his cause- Rikke, Uncle Oritius, Gaius- I realized I couldn't give him credit.
As much as I tried to justify my apathy, I couldn't, and as sad as it was, that was the most rebellious I had ever felt. I had lived a life of total acceptance and submission to that point. The Legion encouraged it. I never really questioned why until I arrived in Skyrim and saw what life could be if I chose to think and act freely. With that piece of paper, I started a new path and I felt no shame. I was reminded of my uncle's words upon leaving Dragon Bridge. While he meant well, they still clung to that Legion mindset: be safe, be smart, be kind. They weren't bad traits, but left alone they encouraged acceptance. I preferred the traits exhibited by the Stormcloaks- vigilance, justice, and bravery- yet those alone seemed to promote reckless abandon.
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