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Chapter 3: Old Cat, New Tricks

Chapter 3: Old Cat, New Tricks

CHAPTER III - OLD CAT NEW TRICKS

The Jarl’s brother firmly grabbed one of my arms and I opposed no resistance. He pulled me towards the dais and whispered words to my ear, something vitally important in all likelihood that I failed to understand, before leaving me planted just meters from the Jarl.

My thoughts became a heavy haze that sloughed my perception on the world around me as Balgruuf talked to the crowd of people that had gathered at what started as my fool ruse to get some coin and finished in an interrogatory that made me relive the horrors of past days and confess in public I was due for execution by the forces of the empire. ‘The empire this city served.’ A voice scolded in depths of my empty brain.

The horrible dragon skull looked down from the sconce on the wall and I imagined that at any moment it would come back to life and pluck me from the wooden floor like that black nightmare did to so many in Helgen.

Irileth and Proventus came each to my sides and grabbing my arms I felt my dissembodied self forced to kneel before the throne, pulling me down and then up with alongside them.

This strange dance was sucking me out of the trance, my ears started moving... hungry for information and the world agreed to slowly make sense again.

“...don’t want anyone making any mention about it. We have a new enemy to face and it is our duty to protect Whiterun and all its citizens, before anything else!”

Balgruuf finished rallying the onlookers and the rowdy crowd cheered to their leader. My instincs wanted to pull back and turn to the explosive noise, but Irileth kept me looking forward with a rough tug to my arm and warned me between her teeth, still facing her Jarl “You were doing a job good until now, don’t ruin it. Just stand there and follow my lead.”

‘Doing what?’ a spiky thought invaded my head, itching to question her now but I forced my confused curiosity to shut up for some minutes until I could pick up more of what was going on.

Balgruuf announced in his potent voice:

“Me and my council have important matters to discuss, Dragonsreach will be closed to the civilians for the remainder of the day.” With that he sat down again and I noticed the Axe was not in his hands but instead it was by my own feet.

The edge of the weapon glinted in an unnatural purple, probably was enchanted, but why was it there?

Proventus, Hrongar and some guards started dispersing the crowd and the people were moved outside. From my spot in the platform I could see a flustered Nazeem having a heated argument with the old steward, who seemed to remain completely calm as the guards pushed the hateful noble outside.

“That was amazing Balgruuf, I expected a much less pleasant ending for our friend here.” Irileth said besides me, walking again to place herself besides the throne.

“We can’t lose him now, he is our only contact with the events of Helgen.”

The Jarl looked at me again, this time he didn’t look callous or angry… His eyes examined me, questioning.

“You didn’t seem to be paying attention as I was talking Khajiit, to the point you didn’t take my axe! Even for an outsider most have the common sense to take a weapon that is being offered, but you sat there drooling over old Numinex.” The Jarl and his council laughed at poor Aldair as I tried to make sense of the situation.

I slowly gathered enough courage to find my voice.

“You… You won’t throw this one into jail?” I asked him, confused. I had the feeling the previous danger had passed but something much worse was already curling up in a corner, getting ready to strike… and not only at me. And what even was a Numinex?

“That would have been normal procedure, yes. But not today. These days are anything but normal.” The Jarl lounged back in the chair, accommodating himself and clearly not caring for apperances anymore.

‘Not to jail!’ I thought surprised, I had to continue asking! Perhaps this wasn’t the end?

“And… then what’s going to happen? Can Aldair leave?” Hope was starting to blossom inside my chest and the idea of the reward in gold seemed like a childish foolishness at this point.

“Leave...? Leave?!” Jarl Balgruuf looked at me with utter befuddlement and briefly shook his head from side to side, incredulous. “No, you can’t leave. I was under the impression you cat-folk had amazing ears. But you not only seem to be blind to my axe, but also deaf to my words!”

I cursed my fool ass for getting into this madness as the inner council made of me their joke for the week.

The Jarl sighed, tired and soon started issuing orders:

“Proventus, it’s time to begin sending letters. About Helgen and about Ulfric, suggest the Stormcloaks had something to do with the destruction of Helgen but imply something else had occurred and that we are investigating. Mention no dragons.”

“Excellent choice, my Jarl. I’ll deal with it immediately.” Proventus left his side with startling speed and moved upstairs and out of view.

“Irileth, you were right as usual.” The Jarl mentioned with a sour note.

“We have been making a habit of it for some time.” She smiled triumphantly, making no effort to hide it.

“I task you to deal with the situation in Riverwood. Send troops, we can’t leave them unprotected now. I’m counting on you.” He said, looking at her eyes in a way that suggested more than just a chain of command. He then turned to his brother.

“Hrongar, we can’t continue allocating so many guards close to the city. We have to expand our vigilance, improve recruitment incentives if necessary.”

“Always an honor, Jarl Balgruuf.” They both saluted with a hand in their chest and walked away.

He finally looked at me.

“That leaves only us.” He said, voice much lower than at any point in the last hour. There was a bit of resentment about it. “So, what’s going to be with the axe? Do you have any idea of what it means?”

“No, Khajiit doe-” The memory was juggling back into my head and snapped my words short. At some point in the past my mother did read me a book about the traditions of the barbaric Nords of Skyrim. Giving an enemy a weapon meant something good… And rejecting it was a big offense, enough to murder someone.

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A cold tingling creased my back at the idea of having offended this man in public. I wouldn’t live to see the end of it. I decided to come out clean.

“It is important in your culture… if this one doesn’t receive it, you would have a reason to kill Aldair.”

“To kill? Ha! No, not so bad. It’s an old tradition... perhaps it used to be like that hundreds of years ago, but not anymore. However... It would be rude, given the circumstances.” He explained and gestured me to pick a chair and sit. I complied, gaining the sensation I was standing in a more solid ground as minutes went on without an axe in my neck.

With the chair in place, I decided to pick up the weapon from the floor. It was heavy, an ornate axe of Dwemer craftsmanship that reminded me of an old challenge I couldn’t ever overcome back at Cyrodiil. It was a beautiful thing… and it looked deadly sharp.

Under my fingertips I could detect a very dim tingling when gripping the handle. I was sure anything struck by the edge would detonate, like struck by lightning.

“It’s a great thing...” I said to the man. “But, what does it mean?”

“It means I have offered you an alliance and you have accepted it.” He told me simply. “I’ve got the feeling you’re actually serious and unaware of what just happened. I’ve seen it on some of the men that returned from the great war… they hear the sound of blades sparring and they are sent into a murderous rage, start crying like babes… or go blank for minutes, as you did.”

I heard of it too. There were many more of those back at home. Broken men and women who would forever sink their sorrows in casks of mead, then one day they wouldn’t wake up again or slowly die from wasting after their skins turned a sickly yellow. I didn’t find words to say this to him and all his speech added another inquiry to my list: I was losing my wits.

“But to you it was looking at the old skull of Numinex, the Dragon the original owner of Dragonsreach killed a thousands years ago.” He continued, looking at me with a combination of pity and what could be either curiosity or confusion. “That’s how I believed you. It was the final piece in the puzzle we have been putting together for weeks.”

“Wait, you knew about this? The dragons have been attacking in Skyrim for some time?” I was perplexed, any news of that kind would have reached the other provinces in a heartbeat.

“Not exactly. We have been working with outside sources and there’s been a pattern for a while now. Old dragon mounds all through Skyrim were being sacked, or at least that was the logical conclusion we drew until reports of strange sightings in the mountains and unnatural roars started. Now it all makes sense! They are coming back, somehow.”

A renewed sensation of peril crept on my awareness as The Jarl watched me smirking with mischief.

“And you are the only living being that has seen one and survived to tell me the tale, this is the reason today you have been appointed as a provisional member of my council, an advisor in this matter of Dragons. Instead of going to jail you now work for me... For free, until I decide to release you.”

By Azura!

“WHAT? Am I-... this one is a SLAVE?” By the gods, what have I gotten myself into?!

“No! Nothing of the sort. Consider it… a service to the land.” He said smiling innocently and rested back into the throne.

I looked at the axe I was holding in sudden alarm, feeling it would shapeshift into a shackle around my wrist and turn poor Aldair into Dragonsreach’s exotic pet. Only Balgruuf’s voice kept me from throwing away the cursed thing.

“Think about it Khajiit. You came to my city and openly lied to its ruler, then it turns out you’re supposed to have been executed by the empire that we support. And that’s not mentioning the bits and pieces you took on your merry way towards Dragonsreach. I can’t let you go unscathed… All this has been a smart solution If I say so myself.” He mused proudly.

My mind was slowly processing what the Jarl said but it got stuck on his accusation of robbery. I prayed to all divines I didn’t do it again as I slid a hand into my pocket… and touched something that shouldn’t be there.

With my heart sinking I pulled coins, several rings and one carrot from a saddle that was supposed to be empty. By Jode and Jone I really was going completely insane.

The Jarl made a hand signal to a nearby guard and she took the things I had stolen. Then recapacitated, placed the carrot in my hand and left.

“We’ll make sure to give that back to their owners without them noticing. You were told at the gates you would be under vigilance.” Balgruuf intoned with mirth.

Telling this man I occasionally “took” things from people without noticing myself would not make a good case, so I remained silent pretending to regret it.

He sighed and got up. “Go speak with my court wizard, he’s over there, in the eastern wing of the Great Hall. I have something to take care about before I join you. Tell him I sent you and mention a map.”

The Jarl headed upstairs, leaving me alone with two guards that pretended not having their eyes glued to my skull.

I leaned back in the seat, breathing deeply as the enormous pyre in the center of the hall sputtered incessantly. My wits were coming back completely but grasping without much success at the misfortune that just transpired here.

Name or not, I was turned into a glorified slave by the Jarl and trying to run away would just net me a quick travel back by one of the guards; now I knew I was being watched closely from the very second I stepped into Whiterun. ‘How could it be different?’ The city did not accept Khajiit inside the doors and suddenly one appears at their porch claiming he knows what happened to the city that sits at the entrance of Skyrim, a city that has days burning and silent. Of course they would follow you, fool!

I started chewing at the blasted carrot out of pure restlessness.

I didn’t know the specifics but this Balgruuf was to much of my own disgust a true Nord. He would avail by his word even if that meant doing something he didn’t enjoy later on, and while he was a skilled politician I could still get away if I made my part of the deal and played my hand right.. After all he did appoint me as a member of his council in public, if only temporary.

Knowledge is just another tool, as old Taro’Tshiba used to say.

That mad-woman. What would she do in this situation? “Certainly not sit around waiting for a slave collar to be pulled over this one’s neck!” Her shrill voice echoed in my head.

“And this one neither.” I exclaimed to the air.

With regained determination, I got up fast enough to startle the guards that cursed something about cats. I smiled at them briefly in apology and moved to the eastern wing of the hall where a big board with several maps on it managed to hide the unexplored room. I could hear one of the guards cursing Elsweyr some more behind me.

As I got closer to the board a potent smell hit my nostrils. It was sweet and smoky, like a really burnt piece of aromatic wood, it wasn’t horrible but the sudden desire to cough suggested it wasn’t normal either. Behind the board there was a large desk filled with maps and bones and a large alchemy laboratory rested near a wall. The beautiful sight made me stop examining the room.

It was a complete station, worked from black stone and what seemed to be ivory. A small furnace-like miniature tower that surely was a potent burner sat at the end of the table and on top of it a set of alembics, retorts and some tubes I failed to recognize drained the concoction into a small pool in the center of it all. This was the kind of tools money could buy… I felt inadequate thinking about the small lab I left behind in Cyrodiil on top of a shaky wood table.

My eyes fixated on the source of the smell: A mortar made of granite was being heated by the burner and inside it boiling Spriggan sap that was slowly turning a brownish yellow… ‘It shouldn’t be yellow.’ The thought came unabidded.

Looking around I found no one in sight. Where was the court wizard? The sap was steaming, quickly eliminating the water inside it and soon it would be burning… then the Jarl would come here only to find poor Aldair standing close by, chewing vegetables as his castle burned.

Oh no! Not this time!

I located a pair of iron pincers and removed the sap from the furnace, mixed it a bit to help it cool and placed it back at the table, then turned off the furnace and stopped the alembic from soon overflowing the cup in the middle with the impure healing mixture the mage was preparing. If it touched the plants he had close to it the whole mixture would be contaminated and I would be blamed, no doubt.

“Uncaring nords.” I murmured to the laboratory as I worked on the piece. The court wizard was bound to be a lumbering oaf like the rest of them.

After fixing the mess I found a chair close to the entrance where to wait, unseen from outside. I checked my pockets and bags again to make sure nothing found its way to them and was relieved that they were empty.

Either the Jarl or the mage were bound to appear at some point. Right?

Or they would send the guards to chain me.