The night’s trials and revelations left me with fitful sleep. I woke up twice, ensnared in some awful vision of things to come. By the time the sun rose, I’d been up for an hour at least. The short conversation with Adalvald was the thing that bothered me the most.
I had been on the fence about what I should tell him, and stayed there. If he’d pressed me for more information, I probably would have told him. That would come up sooner or later, but the mage had enough to chew on with the tomes, my words, and the raid we’d be embarking on in the afternoon. Yngdaril was only a few hours away by sled.
We’d lost some dogs during the broadside, others had survived but were in no state to pull a sled. Thankfully we didn’t absolutely need every bit of speed for what was next, and we could pack a few extra men onto the sleds with intact dog teams. I was making the rounds of our ad hoc encampment when I ran into the most recent arrivals.
“Kalor, I didn’t see you after the battle.” I sat down on a crate near the fire he was stoking.
“Aye, I took two sleds to make sure that none of the bandits fled south. If Molnen did a good job in the north, we caught every single one of them. How did things go afterwards? I saw the head mounted to the stormcloak banner. Fitting.” I was regretting that decision slightly. I didn’t have a drop of remorse for the elf, but it was an angry choice, not one I would’ve made with a clear head.
“That was Milek, the leader of the necromancers. We caught him by the river, he tried to run when I wanted Jori to ID him.” My brain was still trying to boot up for the day, Kalor made a funny look.
“ID?”
“Identify him, sorry. Jori knew Milek when the cur was still studying at the college. The dunmer knew the game was up if Jori laid eyes on him, he scorched my armor and nearly killed my wolf. He didn’t make it far.” Some of that anger came back, but I let it settle.
“Good riddance, filth like that... we didn’t even know the whole story before you came along you know. We knew there were undead sightings, some hunters shared stories about missing people. The Jarl didn’t think it prudent to panic the people of the hold.” Kalor raked a few coals angrily.
“Really? Every day, a new failure with that fool.” Kalor stiffened, realizing what he’d said, and my response.
“I…” I held up a hand before Kalor could try to walk back what he’d said.
“I don’t give a damn about that blustering drunk or what he thinks anymore. Fenrik and Hrolfin, dozens of other people would still be alive if he’d gotten off his lazy ass and done his job. There was something I wanted to ask you Kalor. Do you think the people of Seacrest would mind if I moved into the imperial fort there? I don’t think that I’ll be staying in Winterhold proper for much longer.” My original plan had been to ask the Jarl for the keep as a reward, and the right to prospect minerals. Given that the old fort was well behind where the Stormcloak-Imperial frontline was going to be and Korir needed money, it seemed like a winning prospect before.
“From what I saw last night, you’d be welcome. Rather it be you and other local men than stormcloaks.” Kalor eyed the other side of the camp. The stormcloak infantry had arrived a few hours after we finished burning corpses, and dropped into bed rolls on the spot. They hadn’t moved on yet, but something told me they wouldn’t be allowed much more sleep.
“Aye, the bears aren’t a bad lot, but the Champion would make for richer company.” Grimvald stalked out of his tent, speaking softly in the early morning light. One of the other men from Seacrest followed behind him, bedrolls in hand. They set up across the fire, Kalor grinned and nodded along with the man’s words.
“Richer, no doubt. Not a man in the Hold has finer armor than that, and if the guard talk is to believed, nobody has a larger horde either. Sorry Champion.” Kalor bowed his head, realizing he may have overstepped.
“It’s no secret, the Jarl paid me well, I took plenty from the bandits, and the barrow. With all this loot here…” I looked to the pile of crates that had been stacked by my tent, and realized that Anglin was sitting there, wrapped up in his cloak. The blur gave him away, now that I knew what to look for.
“You sneaky little shit.” I looked at him. The other men paused, following my eyes. Kalor saw him first through the cloak.
“How did you...?” The older man was baffled.
“Cloak of the spider, hides me when I want it to. One of those things that we took from the last barrow. Johannes is rich, richer than the Jarl and the next richest man by a mile. Earned every last coin of it too. We’re a long way from the beach Ranger.” Anglin took a seat on one of the nearer crates.
“The thought had crossed my mind.” I tried to avoid the talk. The men marching were poor, lean, and mean. They respected me now, it wouldn’t do to stoke any envy with them.
“Is it true that you handed off a years pay to a girl you’d never met before?” Grimvald asked. Kalor smacked him upside the head, but I waved off the tongue lashing to follow it.
“Girda, Thegn Hrolfin’s daughter? I made sure that she wouldn’t want for anything, till she finds a husband, or something else to do. I took it from the bandits that killed her father. Speaking of… wait here for a moment.” I stood and made my way back into my tent, where I’d stashed an iron lockbox. I came back out, and passed it to Kalor.
“Can I trust you to make sure that gets to the family of your dead? That’s their share of the loot from the barrow. I have more, for the men that were there but didn’t join us for this. For you and the ones that did join us here too.” That seemed to stun Kalor to silence, Grimvald too, despite the fact that I’d paid him already.
“Why?” It was my turn to be surprised. Kalor’s question was the last answer I’d suspected.
“They may not have gone into the barrow, but they died in the effort. I asked for your town’s help, and you gave it. You didn’t have to, the Jarl told me to solve the problem, even if it was on your door step.” It seemed straight forwards to me.
“We weren’t your retinue then, we didn’t swear an oath or have any kinship with you, and we aren’t your retinue now. I’m not turning it down, but you don’t rightfully owe us anything, we’d thought it was a call for service from the Jarl, one we’re bound to answer. You are still the Jarl’s first ranger.” Kalor’s answer seemed obvious in hindsight. There was a silver lining to my mistake, literal and figurative.
“The Jarl may not put any value on your lives, but I do. You followed me, your family and friends died for it, and that isn’t fair to you, or their widows, or their children. Why should they go hungry or cold because their husbands and fathers and brothers died to some wretched beast? If I had been faster, they’d still be alive. I can’t bring them back, but I can look after what they left behind.” Silence reigned for a long time.
“That’s what Fenrik would have done.” Grimvald spoke first. Kalor nodded.
“Exactly what he did do, three times that I know of. Once a party of hunters disappeared, another, a fishing boat, third was bandit raid on a small farmstead…” Kalor looked over his shoulder carefully before speaking again. “Kargrin, the youngest man I brought, his parents were killed by that raid. He came along to pay back the debt to Fenrik. He always made sure the boy had what he needed, trained him like a son too.”
“I’ve heard, well, I don’t want to bring up black memories. I’m not surprised to hear that though, given how well respected the old headman was.” The Seacrest men agreed silently.
“So, what about this castle you want?” Anglin shifted the conversation back on track. Kalor caught my attention and patted the lock box, closing that question out. Grimvald and the other men both seemed eager to hear about my plans for the old fort.
“We’ll need a place to barracks the company, Seacrest is in a good position relative to the other places I’m interested in. I also want to go looking up and down the coast, I have a book… One second.” I got up again, and went for the book I’d stuffed in my ruck. Riga was starting to stir.
“Are we marching?” She asked in a sleepy voice, Karliene grumbled next to her, having been woken up by the girl’s shifting.
“No, breakfast soon though, sleep a little longer if you want it.”
“Baconnnn!” Riga’s stomach rumbled on cue.
“Sure thing.” I walked back out to the men around the fire, and saw Kalor already digging through a box of food. Other men were starting to do the same around the camp, scents of cooking starting to waft over.
“Make sure you put some bacon on, doctor’s orders.” I took my spot back on the crate. Grimvald held up a hand, and reached to the bag he’d brought out of his tent. The man had a block of sliced, fatty horker meat that would do well. I waited till we had the cooking in hand to explain my plans that had prompted the book.
“Jori gave me this a few days ago, it’s a mineral survey of Skyrim done by a third era scholar. My interest in the keep isn’t just Seacrest’s location compared to other settlements. This, let me find the page, here. That’s a survey of the coastline east of the city. Silver, iron, and corundum. What’s better than a good steel blade for killing monsters?” They may not have known much about magic, but everyone knew the folklore.
“Silvered steel blades.” Kalor smiled.
“And arrows, armor, sanctified blessings. We have everything we need to set up mines along the coast. Frozen Wharf has shipwrights, Seacrest has a large forest in the foothills, there’s plenty of men looking for work, and I heard a story about an ailing mine that somehow missed every known ore vein in Winterhold. The keep has a smithy, doesn’t it?” I looked to Kalor.
“Yes it does. You’re full of surprises Champion, are you going to run the smithy yourself?”
“It’ll be a learning experience. Do you have a smith in Seacrest? Or did the legion do that?” I fully intended to get my hands on a hammer and anvil, but instruction would be helpful.
“The legion smiths did work for us when they could, no smith could keep his shop open with them undercutting prices.” Grimvald grumbled. A new voice came up.
“We have a spare smith with us now. Harald’s father runs the smithy in Frozen Wharf. He’s gifted with steel.” Lodor came to sit by the fire, trailed by the mentioned man.
“That the truth of it Harald?” I looked him over.
“Yes Champion, I’ve been working iron and steel since I could see into the forge.” He answered quickly.
“There, we have a smith too. Now we just have to round up a few miners and loggers to supply the materials. There’s a few men in Winterhold that are looking for steady work, I turned them down from the company. Any other ideas?” Grimvald waved a hand to catch my eye.
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
“Loggers we already have in Seacrest, they’re hardly working. There just aren’t any orders for wood, so don’t worry about that. Miners might be more challenging. We don’t have any real mines in the hold, aside from the one you mentioned, but you can probably hire some men from Dawnstar, plenty eager for better pay the last time I was there.” That struck a separate thought in my mind. I’d probably need to go meet with Carcette at some point, and I’d need to get around the mountains to do it.
“I have some business to look into in that direction once everything here is settled. A supervisor and a few experienced work crews will be a good start. Food is going to be another problem.” That drew a snort from Anglin.
“Build a fishing boat, my brother and I can bring in elk and horkers for plenty, but I don’t care if you’re Ysmir himself, I’m not working a mine.” Angven echoed his sentiment. Where the other twin had appeared from, I had no idea.
“You’d be wasted down there. No, you two are going to be training scouts and archers. Kalor, you’re a strong fighter, where’d you learn to fight?” I wasn’t going to send my company half trained and under-equipped against fucking vampires again, that was for sure.
“On the Red Ring Road, I was in Fenrik’s company, under General Jonna. We fought for a week, I picked up this scar from an Aldmeri boy’s dagger.” Kalor drew back his sleeve to reveal a long cut across his right arm.
“And you beat that elven fool’s head in with your shield! Kalor fought with the legion to retake the Imperial City.” Grimvald boasted. Kalor shrugged, less enthusiastic about his own deeds.
“I stayed with the legion for a few years after the war. Bandits were a problem, so were the Reachmen and the goblins. They put Fenrik and I in the borderlands between Cyrodil and the Rift towards the end. I was discharged as a lower legate, hunting down bandits in the Jeralls with half a company.” Kalor’s history didn’t exactly surprise me, he was about the same age as Jorman, which would have put him at eighteen or nineteen when the Imperial City fell. I just hadn’t put much thought to it before.
“Well, Kalor, I know you said you aren’t part of my retinue, but I will need someone to help train these men, and you’ll be nearby. The pay’s good.” Kalor smiled at that.
“That will depend on who we get as a new headman. Fenrik didn’t have children, so the Jarl might name one of his thegns, or let us pick one from the town. I will keep the offer in mind. Jorn and Lodor would be good choices in the meantime. Both are skilled fighters.” Kalor pointed to the suddenly self conscious Lodor.
“They’re on the list, but I think I’ll have too many troops to train after this for just the two of them. Gromm is headed back to Icehome I think. The other seasoned fighters I know are already sworn to the Jarl, I don’t think he’d let them go to come work for me.” That left a few awkward looks around the fire, there were a dozen men from my company hanging around the wings now, and all of them were perfectly aware of my strained relationship.
“You’re a champion of Stuhn, send word that you need strong warriors, and they’ll answer. We have several veterans among the ranks of the Vigilants as well.” Adalvald strode towards the fire with Hania behind.
“Adalvald, Hania. That’s something I hadn’t considered yet. I didn’t want to drag too many of your order away from the roads, or ask too much of you.” I waved to them as they found places near the fire. Breakfast was almost ready. It must have been the smells drawing them in.
“From our conversation last night, I thought you would have some new methods for us. I intended to send out letters to those vigilants I know the whereabouts of, some twenty of us could be gathered next month. Our place should be with Stuhn’s champion.” Adalvald leaned in to get a long whiff of the bacon cooking.
“They’d be welcome. After your showing last night, I can’t think that anyone here would disapprove of a few more healers and spell swords.” I looked to two men that I’d seen wounded, they’d been treated by Vigilants. They both nodded their respects to the senior mage.
“They fought well, and tended the wounded better.” Kalor made his position known. There was a round of agreement, a few subdued cheers for the mages. Breakfast was ready by then, hot food stifled the conversation for a while. I made up a plate for Riga, and took it back to the tent.
“Riga, food’s oh, I can uh…” I’d walked in on Riga getting a fresh shirt on. She was covered by her blankets, but it was more bare skin than I was comfortable with.
“You fight draugr and necromancers, my arms aren’t going to kill you Johannes.” Riga smiled as she put the shirt on.
“No, but－” Riga shot me a look.
“The first night we really met you knocked me out and stuck your hand down my jacket. You know what’s under there.” The way she was smiling, I knew I must have gone a crimson color. I gave her the plate of hot food, trying to come up with something clever.
“Yeah, it took me a while to find that letter, it wasn’t exactly out in the open.” Riga just smirked. Where she’d gotten that newfound confidence… Hania. That must have been what the pair of them were grinning about the other night. Riga hadn’t exactly been shy before, but I was thinking it wasn’t entirely an accident that I’d seen what I had.
“You were favored by Stuhn, I was by Dibella. Thanks for breakfast, I’ll be out in a minute, unless you can stand seeing…” gasp! “Thighs!” She lifted her blanket a touch.
“Get dressed, you can show off your thighs later.” She was pretty, smart, loyal, and I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t some reciprocation. Any other woman and I’d have to be worried if it was purely because of what I was, rather than who. Riga dropped the blanket back down as I turned to leave.
The men were starting to tear down their tents, Jorn and Kalor barking out orders. I went after the last few bits of breakfast, a strip of elk meat, some buttery toast, bacon, it made a good sandwich. Karliene had followed me out of the tent, drawn by the smells. She got the last two pieces of bacon. I found the man I was looking for near the sleds.
“Gromm! Did you get something to eat?” The man was supervising the drivers, harnessing up the dogs.
“Horker and fried fish on our fire. A good meal, for a good fight coming.” Gromm let one of his guys finish up the sled they’d been working.
“Good, there was something I wanted to ask. You mean to go back to Icehome after we purge Yngdaril, don’t you?” I gestured to the west.
“I’d hoped to. It will have been nearly a month by the time I get back. My daughter is a handful to deal with, I wouldn’t want my wife to go too long alone. Why? Do you need us for longer?” Gromm looked a bit worried.
“No. You’re free to go home as soon as we finish here, I’ve got enough men to go south of the mountains and hunt down the last barrow. My question was more about if you want Icehome to stay as your home. I’ve ridden the ice around it, I’ve seen the coast there, it’s barren, bleak, and hard. Poor living.” Gromm shrugged, he couldn’t deny it.
“So? My family’s lived on the western frost for a thousand years. Where else would we go?” A few of the other men from Icehome had come forwards to listen.
“Seacrest. I have plans for the Imperial fort there, and I’ve got a good lead on some promising ore veins along the coast. There’ll be jobs for logging, mining, in the smithy, training my company or joining it, hunting for meat and fur to feed all the new workers that’ll come. It’ll also be safer, things are going to get worse before they get better.” Gromm rolled the words around in his head for a moment.
“Life on the ice is hard, and I don’t doubt your claims, but I can’t abandon the rest of the village. Do you think that Seacrest would be willing to take forty new mouths to feed?”
“They won’t need to feed you. If that’s a problem, I’ll buy the food until we can get something self-sufficient going. Building houses wouldn’t take too much time either. By the summer, Seacrest will be the busiest town in Winterhold.” It was claim that really didn’t even seem like a boast to me. Winterhold proper had a tannery, a few shops, and the college, it wasn’t hard to beat. With the amount of money I’d be spending, and the coin my troops would have to put towards shopping, Seacrest would be a beacon for anyone that wanted a better life.
“I’ll ask around the village, and send one of these men ahead if we take the offer. Icehome’s a dying village, as much as I hate to admit it. There were three hundred of us a century ago, the old foundations are still buried under the snow. What’s a village come to when they sell the cut stone of abandoned houses?” Gromm sneered at himself.
“They come to a decision to pack up and move. A hundred years ago Icehome was on a major trade route between Winterhold and Dawnstar, now you’re just on the ice. If you send one of your men, I’ll send him back with wagons to collect your people and property.” I put my hand out to Gromm.
“It won’t be easy to convince the older folk, but something needs to happen to change our fortunes.” Gromm shook on it. That turned out to be easier than I thought it would be. Then again, if the Champion of Stuhn tells you to move somewhere safer, you ought to listen. An isolated village like Icehome could be torched in one pass by a bored dragon.
“Big changes are coming to this Hold, I promise you that. I intend to change the fortunes for everyone.” I patted Gromm on the shoulder, he just gave me a curious look.
“You’ll see. Get the dogs ready, we’re moving when the sun rises a man high.” I pointed to the disk, about waist high on the horizon. Gromm nodded, and whistled for a few other men to start helping with the sleds. I saw the four rookies, Virgar, Orryn, Elsborn, and Thalin, all join in.
Now I just had to go find Jorman, and get him to handle the cavalry. I ran into Kai along the way, he was rousing the stormcloaks from their short rest. Luckily they didn’t have much farther to march, Ash Watch was only a few hours over the river.
“Setting off again?” I asked the commander.
“Aye, sorry we can’t join you at the barrow. Jarl Ulfric wants us to turn back the dunmer before they get too far into Skyrim.” Kai seemed genuinely remorseful that he wouldn’t be finishing the raid with us.
“What happens if they don’t turn around?” I looked over the blue coated soldiers getting their armor on, checking packs, sharpening blades. They’d missed the big fight, now they were headed to stop a column of those they probably believed were their ancestral enemy. They’d be eager for blood.
“Hopefully they won’t make that mistake. There’s no honor in a senseless slaughter, but I have my Jarl’s command. They do not stay in Skyrim.” Kai saw the expression on my face.
“Don’t start a war you can’t finish. You’ll have to kill them all, man woman and child, and secure the silence of seventy odd men. If you don’t, the other Dunmer will hear about it, and they will retaliate. Try not to let it come to blood.” I offered my advice. Kai took it in stride.
“Merciful Forbearance then, as there’d be nothing Righteous to our Might.” The stormcloak put his hand out.
“Keep that sentiment close. Blood begets blood, and Ashwatch isn’t much of a fortification these days, nor is seventy men an army.” I shook the man’s hand.
“Wise words Champion. Hopefully we’ll cross paths again.” Kai turned back to his soldiers, marshalling them for the march over the river. It was a different sight in the day. We’d set camp on the ridgeline overlooking the ford, the mountains in the east and the softly rolling hills on either side of the valley were gorgeous. It was hard to imagine that everything to east was just ashen hellscape. Kai wouldn’t be able to keep the Dunmer out for long without violence. He wouldn’t need to, not once the dragons and the civil war started, the flow of refugees would slow to a trickle with that word reaching back.
I found Jorman sitting on his horse, at the northern end of the ridge. He didn’t look pleased to see me, but I couldn’t blame him for that. He was caught in a foul position, between duty and common sense. I stopped next to him, looking towards the Sea of Ghosts.
“How’s the Jarl?”
“We stopped the bleeding, but we can’t get the arrowhead out of his leg. Hopefully it will heal on it’s own.” That was very, very bad.
“It won’t. You need to get that arrow out of him. Did it hit the bone?” I turned to face the Housecarl. Jorman’s face was calm, almost detached.
“Just below the knee. We can see the arrowhead, but it won’t come loose. Not even Hemjar could get it out with a set of smith’s tongs.” Arrowheads were a bitch like that.
“If he doesn’t get that arrow out of him, he’ll be dead in a week. The wound will get infected, the rot will spread into the bone and the blood. Has Adalvald seen to him?” That drew a reaction from Jorman.
“No. I was sent out from the Jarl’s tent for suggesting it. The Jarl wants nothing to do with mages, magic, potions, or otherwise.”
“Then he’ll die an idiot. I’m taking my riders to Yngdaril, take the Jarl back to the infantry, they aren’t far behind us. Any cavalry that can be spared are appreciated.” I turned to walk away. If the Jarl wanted to rely on horrific medieval medicine, that was his choice. It’s not like there was miracle magic healing and a very studied practicioner of it in the camp with us right now. It would save me the trouble anyways. Hemjar wouldn’t be planning to kill me without the Jarl’s consent.
“Hemjar, Molnen, and a few of the guards are going to come along with your men.” Jorman didn’t hesitate with his answer. I waited to see if he would make any uncomfortable faces or awkward movements, but he didn’t. Jorman didn’t know. He was too close to me to have been trusted with that, and he never would have gone along with it.
“Glad to have them. I’ll see you in Winterhold when I go to collect my things.”
“Renouncing your position?”
“I won’t take orders from a bitter old man. After Yngdaril, my work for him is done. I agreed to hunt down the bandits, and kill the necromancers. I’ve done that, and I’ve been given higher duties to see to. If the Jarl does survive that arrow, it won’t be long before another minor problem becomes a major threat, and he can beg his new patron for help.” Jorman shook his head.
“Where will you go?”
“Seacrest, I’m taking the fort there. If the Jarl wants to stop me, he can fight me for it, with whatever men he has left.” I looked over the camp. The stormcloaks had broken down their tents and were forming up to leave. My men were just about the same way, only the Jarl’s contingent still had tents up, few as they were. We’d outrun the Jarl’s infantry, they were twenty miles away at least, leaving just his house guard here. Truthfully, it wouldn’t be hard to overwhelm them, kill the Jarl, and return with the Helm of Winterhold. I needed people to see Hemjar trying to kill me first.
“He’s in no position to stop you. Even if he hadn’t been wounded.” Jorman admitted with a sigh. The long suffering housecarl was sworn to the fool’s service, regardless of what he really thought.
“No, he isn’t, and nobody else is using the castle right now. Are you sworn to the Jarl, or his family?” Maybe I’d be able to poach the best fighter in Winterhold if the Jarl let that arrow fester.
“His family.”
“I see. Well, like I said, I’ll see you in Winterhold. Tell Molnen we’re heading out in a short while.” I finally finished my turn back to the camp. Yngdaril awaits.