Chapter 16: The Hall of Heroes

Asha and Hakon ran at an angle, desperately trying to get out of the way of the stampeding herd. But the lead mammoth had seen them and was determined to crush them. Asha clung tightly to her bow, sure that it would be a hopeless fight if she had to fire upon this beast.

Hakon pushed her to one side. “Split up!”

He began waving his arms, screaming, and yelling to get the animal's attention. The lead mammoth took notice and charged after him. Asha panicked, knowing he would die if she didn’t act. She strung an arrow and fired at the mammoth's flank. It roared in pain and turned on her, its eyes wild with rage.

A whiny came from behind Asha and she turned to see a rider bearing down on her. She barely registered that the rider was a man in full iron armor when he extended a hand and yelled, “Jump on!”

She grabbed the hand and was yanked forcefully onto the moving horse. She swung her leg around the horse's flank and clung to the man's arms, feeling extremely unsteady as she held on to his broad, sweaty biceps. They turned away from the mammoth and nearly ran into a giant as it charged at them, swinging its club in a wide arc. They both ducked as it missed the horse and their heads by a hairsbreath. The armored warrior yelled a command and the horse sprinted away from mammoth and giant.

Asha looked around and noticed several other riders, one of whom had Hakon on his mount. They were fleeing from the herd, the giant waving his club at them angrily. It still spoke no word. The horses' speed soon distanced them from the giants, their mammoths, and the foolish bandits who had tried to steal some cheese.

They rode on, across the plains and away from the solitary mountain. Asha could now see beyond it. The plains dipped into a valley where a river flowed through it. Farms and homesteads dotted across it, small clusters indicating where towns were. Another mountain range was in the distance, visible to the naked eye. She knew these small mountains hid the capital of all Atmorans in Skyrim. Somewhere beyond it was Bromjunaar and Wulfin. The warrior whose waist she clung to still hadn’t spoken to her. He seemed the quiet, stoic type. Hakon was talking animatedly to the armored woman he rode with. Asha leaned into her rider. “Where are we going?”

“Where do you think?” snorted the man, “Back home.”

“But where is that? Who are you?”

He let out a bark of laughter. “Don’t you even know, hunter? We are Companions. We are going to Jorrvaskr.”

Asha felt the thrill of excitement fill her body. It was better than she could have hoped. She was going to see the place where legends were made, the Hall of Heroes.

***

The hall of Jorrvaskr was everything she had heard it would be. A massive ship had been turned upside down and placed on the walls of a tall building. Its prows had extra attachments added to them, wooden dragon heads that lifted high on the ends. The shields of the five hundred companions circled the railing of the ship, stout but weatherbeaten. The hall's windows glowed with a bright light from the massive fire within. The entire structure rested on a rocky outcrop with stone steps leading up. In the background, a massive stone raven loomed, wings outstretched and eyes glowing, and Asha knew she was looking at the legendary forge, the Skyforge.

The companions stopped their horses at the base of the stone steps. Her rider dismounted his horse and helped her down. “Thank you,” she said, breathless and still staring at the hall.

“First-time visitor, eh?” he asked.

“But I’ve heard all about it,” said Asha.

“Then you should come to the feast tonight,” said the companion. “We are celebrating the festival of the first seed.”

He pulled his horse by the reigns toward a nearby stable, leaving Asha and Hakon alone before the steps to the hall. She glanced at Hakon. “Are…are we allowed to go up?”

Hakon laughed. “They aren’t overly fond of visitors. Unless they are hosting a festival, they don’t usually allow people in. If you are looking to try your luck and become one of the companions, they welcome you.”

“Hakon, there you are! You had me worried.”

An old man hobbled to the base of the steps, leaning heavily on a walking stick. Hakon smiled and pulled him into an embrace. “Father, I am back as always. You worry too much.”

“I must since you will not,” said his father, glancing past him to Asha, curiously. “Is this…?”

Hakon turned to Asha, his smile broad, as he gestured grandly to her. “Father, this is Asha, the woman I told you about.”

Asha blushed and took his proffered arm. “My dear, you have my undying gratitude for all you have done for my son. You have lifted us from our concern in the dead of winter and helped us to survive till the spring. We truly cannot repay you.”

“It was nothing, really,” she said. Though she was embarrassed at the attention, she could not help but feel a secret thrill inside. It was a strange feeling to have someone she had never met praise her for her actions. Perhaps this was what it felt like, in some small way, to be a dragon priest or one of the heroes of old.

“Is this the girl, then?” came a voice from behind her, startling her.

Asha turned and saw a grim-faced man, his dirty blond hair and beard tied into braids. He wore hardened leather armor and carried a fine sword at his side. Hakon moved forward and bowed to the man. “Jarl Hamvir, this is Asha, the-”

“Woman you told me about, yes,” said the jarl. Jarl Hamvir took Asha’s arm in greeting as if she were an equal. “You have my gratitude. Young Hakon’s hunts have helped not only his household. When families needed extra food, he was always willing to share from his hunts. A haunch of deer, an extra fish or two. I hear you are the one we have to thank for it. He practically refused to accept any thanks but redirected it to you.”

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“It is an honor to meet you,” said Asha. “I was unaware I was making such an impact. Hakon didn’t tell me.”

“He is a strange one,” said Hakon’s father. “Quiet and caring but will never accept anything offered to him.”

“We are still grateful,” said Jarl Hamvir. “We would invite you to our festival of the first seed tonight. The crops have been planted and our people will join together to share our food. It is only fair that we give back to you in some small way for what you have given my people.”

Asha looked uncertainly at Hakon and then back at the Jarl. “I have nowhere to stay…”

Don’t be absurd, you will stay with me,” said Hakon’s father. “Our home is open to you for as long as you are visiting.”

The jarl nodded. “Then it is settled. I expect to see you at the banquet tonight, and you shall sit at the head table with me as a guest of honor.”

She bowed her head in gratitude just as much to hide how overwhelmed she felt. Hakon’s father hobbled over and took her arm. “Come, Asha. I will take you to my home, and we may find an old outfit belonging to my wife. Kyne rest her soul. She passed away two winters ago from the cold. The winter was harder than most, especially after the dragon priests took the last of our winter supplies in tax.”

“A little too much information, father,” mumbled Hakon. “Don’t overwhelm her.”

“The truth should be heard,” said his father, shaking his cane and nearly toppling.

“Careful, Kolak,” said Jarl Hamvir, catching the old man. “Let us not focus on that. Let us focus on better things this evening. There is always time for dark thoughts in the days to come.”

“Quite right,” said Kolak. “Ignore my rambles, Asha.”

She took his arm and helped him down the hill and away from a hall, toward the small village at its base. “Come, sir. If you are my host while I am here, the least I can do is hear you out.”

The simple home of Kolak and Hakon was much the same as the rest of the houses of the Kendov tribe. They were simple buildings with stone walls and thatched roofs. She had never seen a building made like this before. Having lived her whole life in Shriekwind Bastion, in the cold stone halls, she still found the concept of individual homes…foreign. The inside was just as simple, with a smooth, dirt floor and a few pieces of wood furniture around a stone fireplace. A large pot hung beside the fire, still full of the previous night's meal. Kolak shuffled in through the door first and began to clean the table and kick clothes into a corner. “I’m sorry the house is unready for guests. We rarely receive visitors.”

“Don’t trouble yourself,” said Asha, taking the seat at the table offered by Hakon.

“I’ll get you some food if you are hungry,” Hakon said.

“I think I can wait till the feast tonight,” she said.

“Quite right, quite right,” said Kolak. “Here, let me get my wife’s old clothes from the chest. You may have your pick. She had one particularly pretty dress you may enjoy.”

Asha found she was unused to the clothes as well. She had never worn clothes of woven linen before, having only leather or fur and wool for the cold winters. It was lighter than anything she had felt. She almost felt self-conscious, like she was missing a layer of her clothes and exposing herself. When she emerged outdoors from changing, both Hakon and Kolak smiled when they saw her. “They fit you well,” said Kolak. “Both you and my wife were of similar size.”

“And you are sure this is alright?” she asked, staring down at them.

“You look…beautiful,” said Hakon. His tone and his expression were familiar to Asha. So much like Wulfin. There was no doubting his affection for her now and it caused her to shiver. She wasn’t sure how she felt about him. His attention. About anything she was doing.

Kolak must have noticed something as well for he was smiling knowingly as he took her hand. “You look lovely, my dear. I can promise you. This will be a night to remember.”

***

That night, the streets were lined with torches as the entire village made their way up the hill to Jorrvaskr. From the roads across the fields, torches indicated the arrival of the neighboring villages as well. Asha followed Hakon and Kolak around the base of the structure to an open space on the other side. The wide, dirt area was meant for training with the warriors. However, the normal dummies and targets had all been shifted toward the great mound of rock that held the skyforge above it. Instead, tables and chairs were set near the hallway along with kegs of beer. Further off, an open area by a makeshift wooden stage was set and dancing had already begun around it.

The warriors of the hall, both men and women, were dressed in simple clothing, forgoing their armor and arms, as they joined the tribes in celebration. The noise of hundreds of voices, instruments playing, and the stomping of feet filled Asha’s ears and overwhelmed her senses. This caused her to inadvertently hug closer to Hakon who put an arm around her shoulders for a moment, squeezing them. “It’s alright, they will love you.”

Asha was then pulled by the jarl to the head table and lost track of Hakon. She was offered the finest beer she had ever tasted, along with a selection of rabbit, deer, and goat, as well as many vegetables and bread. It was more food than she had seen in one place in her life.

Many people came up to Asha during the festival as she sat at the head table with Jarl Hamvir and the companion leaders. They thanked her for her contributions to food, even blessing her name and all her lineage. The companions expressed some interest in her background as a hunter and she felt the need to consistently remind them that she was still a novice in their ways. They would scoff and urge her on, plying her with drinks and food if she would only continue talking.

It was at this feast that Asha discovered the companions and the people of the Kendov tribe had very little interest in standing on ceremony or guarding their words with care. They spoke freely and acted as they felt impelled, whether that was dancing wildly, voicing annoyance at the dragon priests, or asking favors. Every emotion, especially those of joy, gratitude, and love were present and were so palpable she could feel it infuse her own heart. Their honest, carefree, and open nature so astounded her that Asha wasn’t sure if they were a special type of human or if her whole life had been a lie and these people were the truest form of humanity.

Partway through the meal, Jarl Hamvir leaned into her and spoke loudly over the noise, “So, I hear you are a storyteller. Hakon has recounted how eloquent you are but was always too embarrassed to retell your stories. He said he would never do them justice.”

“He is…too kind,” she said.

“That may be,” said the jarl, “But he is also an honest boy, ever since he was a young lad. I know many others would agree with me if you would consent to tell us one of your stories of our ancestors.”

No sooner had he spoken these words than many companions around him raised their voices and began pounding the table, calling out, “Give us a tale, Asha! Come now! Don’t be shy. There is no shame and great honor in telling stories. Give us a tale!”

The tumult became so great that Asha felt to refuse would be a great insult. With a nod of her head, the men and women around her cheered and hurried her to the platform in front of the dancing circle. The jarl stepped on stage first and raised his hands, calling to the crowd, “A moment's silence!”

The instruments ceased, the crowd stopped dancing and the noise slowly faded from the circle as the jarl called out, “Our special guest, young Asha who is one of the Hunters of Summer Falls, has graced us with her presence. I hear that, aside from being an excellent hunter who can keep many fed, she is also a storyteller of great renown. She has agreed to share a tale with us.”

A great cheer went up from the crowd as the word spread and many more began gathering on the dance floor. Asha found herself pulled onto the stage as a rapidly growing crowd of expectant listeners gathered close and began to sit. She was now standing, alone, in front of a crowd of strangers, and expected to tell a story.

Asha’s mind made the worst possible choice and went blank.