I was roughly shaken awake, and hauled to my feet by a rough hand.
“You with us imperial?" Asked a Nord voice urgently as the ground trembled under foot.
I groaned, as my vision came back into focus, I realised it was the rebel soldier I had shared a wagon with.
I looked around as rubble fell from the walls and towers, anything flammable was already alight. Further fireballs came from the sky, yes surely it was a volcanic eruption or an attack by some very skilled mages.
"Come on, we need to get out of here," urged the Stormcloak, the quaking underfoot increasing.
I staggered slightly, I had not eaten that day and now the divines expected ME, me to flee the destruction around me without any real aid. Surely this was not possible without having had two hearty meals previously? And surely not with an enemy of the Empire!
All of the Imperial foot soldiers were aiding the citizens of Helgen, the archers attempting to attack the unseen enemy. I looked for an alternative route to take away from the Stormcloaks, unable to see one and a large fireball landing not five feet from me, my decision was made.
These Nords are insane, I thought, as they entered a tower with no obvious means of exit other than its entry point, a small band had gathered including Ulfric.
"Ah, the Imperial," said Ulfric, the man towering above me. "Stay with us if you expect to live, then we will see what to do about you."
I learnt a hard lesson in my younger years of when to stay quiet, it was while I was being home-schooled by my tutor Horatius. Lorgren Horatius was an imposing man, and upon hearing of my fathers need for a tutor had almost insisted that he would undertake the task. Horatius soon learnt that I was my mother's son and not so much my father's. My father being a scholar and a sword master, and my mother being a free-spirit who spent most of her time reading or managing to antagonise my father.
On this occasion, around the age of ten, I had been caught out prior to an exam while looking through Horatius's papers. Fortunately it was my father who caught me and not Horatius, I think I may have been beaten on the spot, my father had said that he would speak to Horatius and then "See what to do about me". I tried to argue my case, that Horatius had given a brief of the subject matter of the exam, but that I had not studied it yet and was looking for a list of text books to read through. My father was having none of it, and hauled me from the library to find Horatius.
As I previously mentioned I am my mother's son rather than my father's son, so when it was decided that I run three circuits around the estate at dawn, return for a reduced breakfast before taking sword practice with Horatius (I hated sword practice), who would be treating it more as a punishment than practice, I instantly regretted trying to speak up even if it was the truth. My punishment ran for two weeks, and I was also not allowed in the library during this time and all of my books were removed from my room. Mother tried to sneak extra food to me when she could, though father seemed to know when she would try and would shake his head disapprovingly, saying that I would never learn if she was too soft on me.
This was one of those times.
Another fireball landed outside the doorway, spurring everyone into action. The group began to climb the stone staircase. I heard something hitting the outer wall of the towers, siege weapons or the mages again, maybe the Thalmor had reneged on their side of the truce?
The wall broke, rubble flew in all directions, anyone unlucky enough to be in its path were knocked from their feet or received injuries of varying degrees. I ducked behind the rebel in front of me to avoid the pieces of stone and dust. Another fireball flew through the opening, in the silence that followed everyone continued upwards, the next fireball hit the wall to the side of the opening and collapsed it further, blocking the route down.
Ulfric and the Stormcloak, who had dragged me from the chaos below, paused by a window.
"Trapped," the Stormcloak observed. "No point going up, can't go down, try for the inn?"
"Yes, get the Imperial out of the way Ralof," replied Ulfric. "The rest of the able bodied men and I will follow with the injured."
Ralof turned to me, "Time to visit the inn."
"Sorry, I don't understand," I replied.
"Jump," Ralof pointed at the inn.
"You don't mean..." I began.
Ralof interrupted by shoving me forcibly out of the window towards the open roof of the inn, parts of which were on fire. I have no idea how I did not hit the remaining thatch of the inn head on, though my arms span wildly and I caught my leg on it as I fell into the upper floor. I scrambled away from the opening, pain searing through my ankle and my shoulder where I had landed.
I had to get away from these vicious mad men before they managed to kill me. I found a table and hauled myself up to a standing position, putting most of my weight on my left leg. I looked for a way downstairs, but the staircase had collapsed. There was a thud behind me as Ralof landed after his leap from the tower, I noticed another hole in the floor that had less timber strewn below. I knew I had to hurry, but that my injured ankle would slow me down. I prepared myself for the jump. This time I managed to hold my leg in to prevent further injury, and managed to roll away from the opening above me. I struggled to my feet again and limped out of the inn to be greeted by another fire bolt.
"Good, you're still alive," called the Nord soldier who had taken my name before the chaos began. "Keep close if you hope to stay that way."
Fire was still raining from the sky, the Imperial soldiers had not fared well so far and there were bodies strewn across the courtyard. A man and his child ran from one of the houses as it began to collapse, a large piece of rubble flew towards them striking the older man. As he stumbled, the Nord soldier ran towards the boy trying to call him over to safety. The air pressure changed, dirt and rubble flew up from the courtyard, I had no idea what it was but it was but there was fire everywhere and a dreadful noise, every time I tried to look towards it my mind fought against me, drawing my head away. This had to be the dark magicks of the Thalmor, no mage that I had read of in history was capable of such a feat. The Nord soldier had managed to pull the boy out of the way just in time as another firebolt hurtled in the direction of the older man.
Another soldier came into view, firing arrows towards the fire breathing object, the soldier with the boy hurried towards him.
“Gunnar! Take the boy and get out of here, we’ve lost Helgen!” Shouted the Nord.
“What happened to Tullius, Hadvar?” Asked the archer.
“No idea, no time to find out, just get out of here” replied the soldier I now knew to be Hadvar, pushing the boy towards the archer.
The thing, contraption, whatever it was, maybe dark magicks combined with Dwemer technology, lifted into the sky, strong gusts engulfing it. Further firebolts rained down and I did not have time to attempt to look again as Hadvar was calling to me.
“Prisoner! Are you injured? We need to get you out of here, this way” he said, waving me over.
I hobbled over as quickly as I could, we turned down towards the wall of the keep, sheltered between that and a house that still had its thatch. Something hit the top of the house and Hadvar held me back with an arm, when he lowered his arm he proceeded more cautiously avoiding rubble and firebolts.
We entered a larger courtyard where mages were mixed with archers targeting the enemy, a small number of soldiers were making their way in retreat to the north gate, but our path towards them was swiftly becoming blocked with burning timbers and falling rocks. We turned southwards, towards what appeared to be the main keep.
“Ah, the imperial!” called Ralof who had somehow reached the keep before us. “I wondered where you’d got to. Come on, no time to hang around.”
“Prisoner, stay back, these rebels cannot be trusted” instructed Hadvar, drawing his sword.
“Pah! Hadvar, you chose the wrong side, the weak one!” Ralof bit out, he too drew his sword.
Another piece of rubble fell from the wall, a fire bolt following swiftly behind it. I held my hands up as the two Nords squared off against each other.
“There’s no time you fools!” I yelled. “Hadvar, which way do we go?”
Ralof looked at me in disgust as he sheathed his sword, then turned and ran towards a large door in the keep. Following the Stormcloak was not an option, should word of it reach the Imperial City, my family may be in danger of interrogation by the Thalmor. Ladia’s family was at risk through their opposition to the White-Gold Concordat, my family's long held support of the Empire had kept the wolves from the door following our marriage. But one misstep… It didn’t bear thinking about.
“This way,” replied Hadvar leading me towards another door, further along the wall of the keep. “We’ll go through the barracks and see if we can find something for that limp.”
We entered the relative safety of the keep, where Hadvar cut the ropes that bound my hands, the sound of roaring and rubble falling very audible within the stone walls of the keep. I collapsed on one of the beds, shaking, the pain in my ankle making itself known again.
“Prisoner,” Hadvar hesitated, “Cedar? Please, remind me your name, but we need to get moving, find some equipment to give you more protection. I am not sure how much more the keep can take before it collapses.”
I groaned, leaning on the bed for a moment in an attempt to remain upright. “It’s Cedas, Auguris Cedas, I need something to lean on until I can find a healer.”
I hobbled over to one of the chests and pulled out an Imperial leather helmet, it looked a bit big but I threw it on one of the beds. Next I pulled out a leather cuirass, it again looked much too big, I pulled it on and it slid down over one shoulder, I looked over to Hadvar.
Hadvar laughed, shaking his head, “No, Cedas, I think not, I’ll look in the other chests to see if there is something smaller.”
I pulled off the cuirass and rummaged through the chest some more, an iron sword, my father would probably disown me for my next thought - something to lean on! I had stopped my sword practice shortly after leaving home, having no need of it and the lessons with Horatius had put me off sword fighting.
“Hadvar, is there a quill and inkwell around somewhere? I should note down what we are taking for you to pass on to your quartermaster,” I asked, concerned that an already overstretched army would suffer from the losses, and that all where possible should be accounted for.
“Cedas, once we leave and the fires are out there will be more than enough bandits to clear this place out before we can get any soldiers down here to clear the place up, do not worry about the odd piece of armour,” explained Hadvar. “Come now, I have found some armour that may fit you, and a broom.”
With this he threw the leather armour and boots onto the bed next to the helmet I had found, and then picked up a besom broom from the corner and removed the birch head from the handle.
“There, that will serve you better than the sword to lean on,” he laughed. “Now, do you know how to use that sword?”
I took the broom handle and tried it out for size, it was slightly longer than the sword so made a better walking stick and would have appeased my father! “I have not wielded a sword in many years, I can barely lift this thing!” I exclaimed.
“You will remember, your life may depend on it,” he stated firmly. “Now, the armour.”
I pulled the cuirass that Hadvar had found over the top of the torn shirt I had been left with following my stay in the cell, it was dirty, but that didn’t matter when fireballs and rocks were a bigger concern. I pulled on the leather boots and adjusted them to fit as best I could, and then placed the leather helmet on, this slipped over my eyes and I had to keep pushing it back up to be able to see, but it was better than nothing with the falling rubble. Finally I strapped the iron sword to my hip, how I would manage with my broom handle as well I did not know, but this would have to do for now.
~~ Table of Contents ~~
Replies