I travelled by foot so I could cross the mountains, cutting over to the Morthal Road and taking it to Dragon Bridge. It was a route I had learned on hunting trips, and I knew it well and thought I was prepared to deal with the ice wolves in the pass. By the time I got to Dragon Bridge, however, I was starting to feel fatigue weighing on me like a blanket.
I stopped at a house in the little village and asked the matron if I could make use of her tanning rack. “By all means, help yourself. ” she said, adding. “Are you feeling well? You look a little pale.”
“I’m not feeling well,” I replied. “I wouldn’t be surprised if I caught something in the mountains.” I set down my pack and rummaged through it, reviewing the potions I had. I had plenty of potions for the healing of wounds, but I had nothing against any of the common wilderness ailments. “Is there anywhere in this village I could buy a potion?” I asked.
She shook her head. “There are no reputable alchemists any closer than Solitude. We stock up round these parts.”
I thought ruefully of my visit to Arcadia’s Cauldron right before I left Whiterun. Arcadia has a bit of a reputation as a quack, so I stocked up on the healing potions, but cut her off rather abruptly when she tried to sell her cure-alls. If only I had purchased just one…
“If you’re on good terms with the Emperor, you might try them soldiers in the Pentius Oculatus outpost.” The matron waved her hand at a building across the lane. I was alarmed to see Imperial standards flapping from the doorposts.
“Ah, no, I think I won’t bother them,” I said, and hurried out of town. There was no time for me to detour to Solitude. If I was going to participate in the assault on Northwatch Keep, I had to hurry. By the time I had crossed the next ridge however, my joints ached and creaked and my limbs felt heavy. I felt like I was walking through water. I twisted an ankle scrambling down the last rock slope, and then I was trudging through deep snow along the shore of a lake, and I could see Northwatch Keep on the far side, and a pair of men hiding in a clump of trees nearby. I approached close enough to see that it was Avulstein and one other. This was the force he’d put together?
“Just the three of us then?” I asked him, as I arrived.
“He’s the only one I could find. Are you ready?” Avulstein replied.
“There’s a slight problem—I think I have Rockjoint.”
“Rockjoint?” Avulstein exclaimed. “Damn! Did you take a potion for it?”
“I don’t have any.”
Avulstein looked like he was about to slap me. “What kind of a fool travels through the wilderness with no cure-all?”
“Do you have any?”
“I… no.” His rage deflated as he realized how he had set himself up.
“What about your friend?”
“He’s a fool like the rest of us. And he’s Thorald’s friend, not mine. Tell you what—are you good with that bow?”
“Bow?” I asked stupidly. “Oh! Hey this bow is enchanted against mages.”
“Then you might still be useful. You hang back and use that bow, and let us take the ax work. Let’s go!”
I don’t think any of us would have survived if it were not for the bow that Adrienne had given me. Even the lowliest Thalmor guard seemed to know how to throw flames, and not every elf in that keep could be described by the word, “lowly.” Thorald’s friend died in the first melee outside the walls. Avulstein himself was knocked down many times, but always seemed to get up and charge back into the fight. Once their magicka had been sapped though, the elves fought with light swords and no shields. They were no match for Avulstein, or even for me in my weakened state. We left none alive that day.
Thorald was chained to the wall in the dungeon. We unchained him and helped him to his feet. He was weak at first, but quickly gained his wind back once he understood he was being rescued. We opened the cells to let the rest of the prisoners loose, but they seemed too beaten to so much as notice that the cell doors were opened. None of them would run, and they shrugged off our efforts to help them. I shudder to imagine that this might have been Thorald’s fate if we had arrived any later.
“I don’t know how much longer I could have lasted in there,” Thorald said, once we were clear of the keep. “Avulstein, I knew you would try to come for me, but I feared you would die or end up chained to the wall beside me. Balgruuf…” He paused, his mouth open as though he’d just realized he didn’t know what to say.
“I can’t begin to describe how grateful I am to you! I can’t get over you being here.”
“Well, I couldn’t very well leave you in there, could I?” I told him, a little puzzled by his reaction.
He struggled to explain. “We were loyal friends as children. Now you have grown to be a man worthy of my loyalty.”
There was nothing he could have said that would have given me more pride. And there was no way I could respond to it. “What will you do now?” I asked him instead.
Thorald shook his head and looked to Avulstein. “It won’t be safe for either of us to go home. We should join up with the Stormcloaks.” Avulstein nodded his agreement. “Will you do us a favor? Tell our mother we’re safe. Tell her ‘The winter wind blows cold, but carries the seeds of spring.’ She’ll know what that means.”
“I’ll tell her,” I agreed. “And I will look forward to fighting beside you for Skyrim.”
One more return to Whiterun—this one hopefully my last before the end of the war—and while I am there, I will make a visit to the shrine of Kynareth and to Arcadia’s to stock up on potions.
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