Eye of the Wind – Ch. 5 – 5: Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

  • Leaping up the stairs two at a time, I left the stone palace and Ondolemar behind.  My mind was a maelstrom of thoughts and arguing voices as I loped through the city.

    "Your father was a fanatic."

     No he wasn't.  Was he?  Whenever I had asked why we left Valenwood, the answer was always different.  Always dancing around something he wouldn't tell me.  "It's too dangerous here."  "They don't want us."  I thought back to all of those nights spent in temples, singing and swaying and seeing things I didn't understand.

    "Had he unleashed the Wild Hunt all of your family would have died..."

    My father wouldn't have done that.  I was a tiny child.  That would have killed me.  And yet you were there, my mind insisted.

    "...something in you that could be put to good use..."

    Heaving a sigh, I clambered up one last set of steps.

    The stone was cool and shaded as I sat on the ledge of a stoop situated high above the market.  Across the way I watched guards go to and fro from a tower, several stretching and yawning as they emerged.  Faintly I heard the hiss and burble of water coursing through pipes, overshadowed by the constant plunge of water from the cliffs.

    For a while I relaxed, trying not to think of anything, letting my thoughts congeal and disperse in my head of their own volition.  Somewhere a pump stalled and churned in a clanking rhythm.  The rhythm brought to mind the drums of the temple, and it wasn't long before I heard myself softly singing the chant of the rituals there.

    Father placed me on the edge of dais in front of the congregation.  "Why don't you sing for us, Henny?" he smiled, showing teeth that were filed sharp.  I loved my da's smile.  I sometimes pretended he was a Pahmar from Elsweyr when we were hunting.

    "But da, I don't want to," I whined.  Then pulling his long ear closer, "They're all staring at me."

    "That's because you're that special, darling.  They're all waiting to see you shine for them.  You remember the words mama taught you?"  I nodded, feeling suddenly very shy.  "How about I sing with you?"  I nodded again.  

    My voice was tiny and quiet, where my father's was proud and strong, as we progressed through the first verses.  Looking up, I saw the ferocity and pride in my father's gaze when he looked back at me, and my song strengthened.  Eventually, his voice faded as he unveiled something behind me.  The congregation of my family and neighbors looked on in an unending hunger and rage.  There was a groan, and turning, the song faltered as I saw a man in black and gold robes bound and gagged on the altar.

    Da glanced at me and smiled broadly, motioning me to continue.  His look warmed me, comforted me, and I sang even louder, forgetting all about the man in robes behind me.

    The Bosmer before me shifted into different shapes, flickering back and forth as if they couldn't decide who they wanted to be.  Their voices chorused with my song in a cacophony of howls, screeches, and snarls.

    As one, they fell on the bound mer.

    Later da told me that that was a bad mer.  He had wanted to hurt our family, especially him.  I wasn't to go near any of them or listen to what they said.  "Their words are poison, Henny."

    "The Wild Hunt," I murmured to myself and resigned to watch the people of the market once more.

    Below I spotted Derkeethus meandering about, his head hung forlornly and his step stiff with annoyance.  I wondered if he noticed me from my lonely perch.  What would he make of the words of Ondolemar?

    Which brought me back to my meeting with Arngeir.  "You are not the Dragonborn as you are now..."   What were dragons, anyway?  Aspects of Akatosh and Lorkhan, a voice in my head answered.  Lorkhan...

    And then my eyes bulged and my jaw dropped open as understanding crashed down on me.  "Father wanted me to start a Wild Hunt.  Because I'm possessed by an aspect of Akatosh and Lorkhan."  I realized that if I were to transform, I could easily become some horrific amalgamation of dragons that would destroy everything in sight and be almost impossible to stop.  Terror nearly overwhelmed me as I realized I had been dancing on the line of transformation already.  

    The only moments of respite had thus far occurred in moments of experiencing pity, compassion, and companionship.  "Mara guide me," I whispered, "Y'ffre sustain me."  With their assistance, I might be able to survive and control this power.  It would require me to refrain from hating my enemy, no matter what they have done to me.  To accept their existence as they were at that very moment and ignore whatever they'd done in the past or would do in the future.

    What better person with whom to begin this practice than Derkeethus.

    Slowly descending the steps, I found Derk browsing at a meat stand bartering for dried meats.  I suppose he knew we would be leaving soon.

    "And she has returned.  With a new sword no less," he grinned.  Then, seeing my face more clearly, "Are you all right?  You look...shaken."

    "I'm fine.  I'm sorry about earlier, Derk," I replied, my eyes flicking about uncomfortably.

    "Don't worry about it.  We won't talk about it.  It never happened.  I don't remember what we did anyway."  He was lying about the last part, I could sense it, but I didn't say anything.  Draping an arm around my shoulder, he gestured to the stand before us, "Now, help me pick from this selection of fine and delicate meats.  Why, I do believe have a slab of dog ribs here..."

    Grinning, I took over the bartering and we soon had our supplies restocked for whenever we decided to leave.  As we left the inn, Derkeethus led me to the left and up the confined street.

    "While you were away, I was looking over the notes Quintus sent us--don't look at me like that, I didn't tear them.  I just got worried about Hrefna and had to look."

    "And...?" I pried impatiently.  We paced along the narrow stone walkway, slowly tilting upwards.  On our right, a shallow channel steered water between the buildings.

    "The next verse of the poem is here, I think.  This hold, I mean."

    " 'In the western canyons cloven.'  Yes, I think you're right."

    "There were some Nords complaining about a murder in the marketplace some months ago by a man claiming to be of the 'chosen' people of this region.  Evidently something happened here that drove those people out of the city, and now they want the city back."

    " 'Dwell the long forgotten chosen,' " I recited, nodding in agreement.

    "What I don't understand is what ancient beliefs and a heart have got to do with it," he finished, looking at me expectantly.

    "Maybe we can ask one of these 'complaining Nords'.  Or at least find out where they're camped."

    "Yes, that's what I was thinking.  There's a housecarl who haunts this street during the afternoons.  I'm hoping he'll know something."  The Argonian's brow ridge raised fractionally and he stopped.  "There's just one other small matter, Henny," he said with a smirk stretching across his face.

    "And what is that?"

    "What happened to the gems and gold?"  Suddenly, the pump that had begun clanking earlier shuddered and a pipe beneath the walkway expelled a ruby the size of a hen's egg into the channel.  Derkeethus crowed laughter after seeing my sheepish expression.

Comments

2 Comments
  • Eviltrain
    Eviltrain   ·  October 13, 2012
    So, we have the first denouement of a heavy and important fact driving this tale. And the overarching narrative stay its course. Good piece.
  • Kynareth
    Kynareth   ·  September 30, 2012
    Wow, I really like the explanation for Gwaihen's "strange" experiences...aspects like that seem to be completely plausible in TES, and really set her soul/mind/body up as a sort of battleground.  Many intriguing possibilities there, and I look forward to ...  more