The tundra reasserted its dominance over my vision and my stomach clenched in anxiety. Someone's following Derkeethus. I worried if he would be attacked in the twilight on a stale horse and with little to no sleep. I hoped the pursuer only wanted to let him know someone was watching. Glancing at Tormir, I watched her eyes doggedly searching the horizon while the guard doggedly searched the main street.
Evening draped his cloak over the sun and our breath came out in thin clouds. "It's getting cold, we should go back inside," I said, breaking the long silence. The commoner clothes I wore offered little protection against the chilling air and I shivered, hugging myself.
"Cold? Gwaihen, this is merely a cool evening," Tormir grinned.
"Cool for you. Cold for me." I continued to shiver, this time only in part from the cold. I didn't like the way I felt as if someone was watching me.
"How did you ever survive the winter before?"
"I turned into a bear, fur, fat, and all," I replied with a wink, betraying my anxiety by casting a nervous glance around. Without my bow, I felt painfully vulnerable. Somewhere distant, I heard the steady thump of horse hooves accompanied by the scratching of the katydids. A hiss of steam escaping an earthen vent. Derkeethus humming a tune to himself. My dreams were crowding into my waking moments, and I sighed, seeing two worlds juxtaposed behind my eyes.
Tormir chuckled, breaking my momentary silence. "Well, you made it up here without much of my help. I think you can make it back to the inn on your own," she replied kindly. My face must have reflected some kind of doubt. "Hrollod's coming. I know it. I know he'll be here," she added with conviction. I considered telling her about my dreams, if they could be called that now, but knew that in doing so, I'd open myself up to all kinds of questions. Instead, I nodded and slowly made my way back down the stairs.
At the bottom, I stood panting, gripping the rope rail. From here, the inn looked very far away and very small in the growing dark. With small, painstaking steps I hobbled down the road, wondering if something more than damage from the briarheart was impacting me. My family had a reputation for dying rather early in life; maybe I was finally getting "over the hill". The thought of me silver-haired and ancient, fighting off the Legate Constantius with a cane occurred to me and I crowed with laughter, feeling equal amusement from Derkeethus, far away though he was. Old maid. rumbled through my head.
His thought brought me back to my previous concern about his pursuer. ...escaped. I heard distantly, catching the tail end of some answering thought. Breathing a sigh of relief, I coughed as the cold air bit my lungs. My breath hung for a moment before dissipating.
Mist veiled the image of my companion's crossing a bridge in the night. Jode and Jone smiling sickles at each other, plotting. Nael wheezed and whined painfully, her breaths sounding dangerously wet and heavy. Derkeethus attempted to slow her down and make her rest, even dismounting and walking beside her, but she refused, lowering her head and bearing down on the reins any time he was in the saddle. She continued to canter as fast as she could manage, covering as much ground as possible.
By the time I made it back to the inn, I felt weaker than before and chilled to the bone. Staggering, I made for the fire, wishing for warmth to seep back into my limbs. My breath came short from that simple walk no more than a quarter of a mile from the gate. I clenched my fists and rested my forehead on the hearth, cursing my weakness that didn't seem to be healing no matter how many concoctions I drank.
A cloak was draped over my shoulders, and an elderly man smiled at me toothlessly before laying a hand on my shoulder. I smiled wanly, too tired to do more than that, and stared emptily at the flames of the hearth, allowing my mind to drift tiredly.
My heart thundered in my chest as the first image that greeted me was a sabrecat roaring and tearing after us on the horse. Nael was pushing with everything she had to outrun the swift creature. It lunged, claws tearing at my horse's flanks as Derkeethus unhooked his new weapon and took aim. No!
"No!"
Several men stared at me questioningly, one in particular stood in the shadows, paring his nails with a blade. Our gazes connected, his icy blue one meeting my green one. His hair blazed in the light as he stepped forward.
"Come, miss, allow me to take you to your room," he said smoothly, taking my arm and lifting me. I resisted, vaguely remembering the conversation I heard earlier in the day.
"That won't be necessary, Erik," the elderly man wheezed. "Seeing as she's borrowing my cloak, I thought I'd see her to her room." Erik let me go, thwarted, but the two men looked intently at each other for a moment as the tension between them stretched taught as a bowstring.
"Very well, good night, miss," he said dismissively, brow creasing in frustration.
The old man led me back to my room, before disappearing for several moments. He returned with a bowl of stew I usually ordered--rabbit and venison cooked in a goat's milk-based broth. I eat quietly for a few moments, before handing him back his cloak.
"Thank you for your kindness," I said.
"Watch out for young Erik, he's desperate. We're all trying to keep him from turning you in but...," he admonished. "I'll wait just outside the door until Tormir returns to continue acting as mother sabrecat," he added with a chortle.
I saw the sabrecat falling behind us, a darts lodged in its shoulder. Eventually it turned away and retreated into the darkness looking tired, injured, and embarrassed. Nael eyed behind her and slowed a little, snorting an coughing as she loped.
For a while I slept true sleep, exhausted to the bones from my walk. Someone came in and took the empty bowl from my languid hands and ushered me to bed.
Windhelm loomed against the sky, and foreboding crawled through the watery space of Derkeethus' mind. Once again we were back at the city where all of our troubles began. Nothing good could come of this place. As he dismounted, an icy breeze blew up from the river, carrying faint voices with it. He sent my horse off towards the stables with a pat, and crept towards the partially frozen water.
"Bloody freezing out here."
"Who does he think he is, sending us out here to what? Stand around and watch our snot turn to icicles?"
"Not our fault that elf and her lizard pet escaped him. At least you weren't there when Constantius snapped and slaughtered his own men."
"Gruesome that."
"Aye."
My friend crept slowly down the bank towards the Legate's men, anger and a lust for revenge boiling in his blood. Shock at seeing these soldiers of my most hated enemy stopped me from preventing Derkeethus from creeping closer. His intent to kill these men awakened the twisting hoard inside my mind and its raw, fiery power seeped through the connection into his body.
The first man fell in a silent scream, splashing quietly on the ice.
"What was that?" said another, turning around and drawing his sword. "Fortis!" He skidded across the ice towards his comrade before spinning around and swinging wildly at the Argonian, who ducked easily, impaling his side with his pickaxe. The soldier landed with a splash, face etched in horror.
"Please! Don't kill me! I haven't done anything!" cried the last remaining soldier, who threw his sword into the river and took off running. In several bounds we had him, and his body shook under the contained lightning coursing through his body. He fell to his knees, sobbing. "We were only standing guard. We weren't hurting anyone!"
Don't. Please, stop this, Derk. This is too much. He's crying, for Mara's sake!
He knew what he signed up for in joining Constantius.
In spite of my attempts to push the cool calm I felt in experiencing such intense pity for the soldier, my own mind betrayed me and egged Derkeethus on even when a seed of doubt had been sown. The blade of the pickaxe met the man's skull with a sickening crunch. All was silent for several moments, when the faint sound of running footsteps caught my friend's hot-blooded attention. We ran after it, adrenaline taking him over and pushing me out into darkness.
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