Eye of the Wind – Ch. 9 – 3: Last Chance

• Posted by Kyrielle Atrinati November 10, 2012 - 440 views

  Over the course of the next day and a half, the carriage bore us on a bumpy, ill-used side road to Solitude.  At several points, the four of us had to get out and heave the vehicle out of a rain-soaked mud hole, such that by the end of the first day, we could have lain on the ground and virtually disappeared.  

  Derkeethus slept off and on, and I often found him leaning on me heavily with his snout in my ear.  At one point, he licked my ear and I nearly jumped off the carriage in surprise.  The other soldiers viewed this with some amusement, even going to so far as to ask how an Argonian's parts "worked" in bed.  I blushed furiously and glared out at the surrounding landscape.  They persisted, until, at last, I admitted a nearly silent, "Well enough" to which they roared with laughter.  This woke Derkeethus, and his confused expression caused them to laugh all the harder, until their eyes ran with tears.

  I remained resolutely silent for the remainder of the journey.

  On the morning of the second day, we slowly trudged up a long slope leading to the city gates.  Solitude stood out over the mouth of the Karth River on a natural arch formed out of the rock.  Above the town, seagulls cried endlessly and workers were already shouting down at the docks, though the sun was just peering his head over the horizon.  

  Ahead of us the series of citadel-like gates leading to the city glowered down upon us.  Nearby the town guard glanced at us, then continued observing the road stoically.  The two soldiers got out and made their way slowly up into the city.

  "We'll see you inside," one of them called.

  "Pah!  Inside.  Forget reporting in, I'm dying for some ale," the other grumbled while his companion grinned in agreement.

  Derk dismounted and stood waiting for me.  "Come on, Henny.  We have to go.  It'll look strange if we wait too long."  I only sat in the carriage, clutching my knees in sudden nervousness.

  "I don't know if we can do this.  They're going to find out who we are.  We'll be arrested and probably killed," I fretted, staring at my boots and trying to remember to breathe.  The Argonian leaned against the back of the carriage and gazed at me intently.

  "Even if they do, we won't get arrested.  We'll fight our way out of there if we have to," he said.  "Besides, we can always shout at them until their ears bleed, right?"

  I goggled at him for a moment, "Can we?  I don't think we've ever...done anything of that magnitude."

  "Oh, I think we could.  I just have to let them take me away and you'll lose your temper," he grinned, ducking my hand as it swat at him.  He caught my wrist deftly on the follow-through and gently pulled me down from the carriage.  Without a word he took my bow, sword, and pack and wrapped them carefully in a mat of leather, then set them up in the branches of a nearby pine tree.  The leather blended in with the bark.

  "I suppose I would stand out with a Bosmeri bow and sword slung over my shoulder," I muttered, looking longingly at my effects.  A distasteful sneer coated my features, "And why do you get to keep your...whatever that is on your back?"  He smiled, and I sensed him trying to come up with a name for the contraption.

  "The...Dartsling will soon be standard issue with the Imperials.  We will doubtless see many in the Headquarters sporting one of these."  Raspy laughter accompanied his words as he watched my face twist in revulsion.

  "Dartsling..." I tasted, shaking my head at the very idea of replacing bows with such silly things.  For a moment, I readjusted my bandages and applied blood from a vial to my tunic.  Then, adopting the same hobble I had been using for the last few weeks as the poison had coursed through my system, I followed my friend, as he walked tall and proud through the first gate.

  The guard's gaze flicked questioningly at the Argonian.  He opened his mouth to to say something, but the stern, authoritative gaze from the apparent captain made him shut it.  He hastily resumed his watch, daring to flick a second look at my friend's retreating back.  Derkeethus ignored all who walked in his path, and he managed to wear his false wound with a kind of pride I only associated with the Nords.  I followed in his wake, attempting to look as injured and meek as my small stature suggested.

  Near the top of the slope, where Solitude began in earnest, a caravan of Khajiits sat around their fire, hawking their wares at passerby.  Without thinking, I turned to greet them, always finding a friend in the cat-people and their strange philosophies, but I was turned away by the Argonian, who held out an arm to stop me.  He glared at me sternly, and I flinched, recoiling at the lack of warmth in his eyes.

  This is a ruse, remember?  I heard him say quietly in my mind, and I relaxed a little, though the sting of that cold stare still bothered me.  Up ahead, his sigh fell back to me and I saw his head shake minutely.  A warmth caressed the back of my mind--an apology.

  We passed through the gates to find Solitude still asleep.  Only the town guard and a few peasants strolled about during their morning errands.  Outside an inn, The Winking Skeever by its sign, a man slouched against the whitewashed stone, snoring heavily, an empty bottle of mead at his side.  The two soldiers who joined our journey sat on the steps, attempting to fling bits of hard bread into the drunkard's gaping mouth.  

  They nodded at our passing, and Derkeethus, having fully assumed his role, seized them by the arms and hauled them to their feet.  "Quit lollygaggin' you louts.  Get back to Headquarters on the double!" he barked.  For a moment, their hands rested on their blades, indignation storming their expressions, and I looked at them worriedly, wishing my sword was at hand.  

  You're going to get us killed, I thought frantically, but the soldiers seemed to remember Hrollod's orders.  They trotted off down the street, then up a set of stairs.

  Now we know where to go.  Derk grinned inwardly.  I had to admit, that was a brilliant idea.  Then I immediately wanted to take it back as I watched my friend preen under my praise.

  I limped after the Argonian as we made our way past a sleepy marketplace dominated by a vine-covered well.  Underneath my feet, water burbled below a steel sewage plate marked with a rune.  The sun's first rays grazed the rooftops.  Down the road, several children were squealing in the early morning.  Their footsteps echoed off the houses as dogs barked from their yards.

  Atop the stairwell, a fletcher's shop crouched in a corner.  I thought to go in there and have a look around, if ever we caught a break in our mission.  To the right, along the wall, the smithy broiled to life as a heavyset Nord stoked its fires.  Sweat gleaned on his glossy pate, evaporating into a haze of steam in the cold air.  

  A breeze blew and I shivered in my ill-fitting armor, smelling the thick scent of something unique and unfamiliar.  I supposed it was the water, though I didn't know of any water that could smell like pickling brine.  "It's the sea," Derkeethus muttered under his breath, the words coming out in a cloud of mist.  No wonder then, I had never seen one before, or smelt one for that matter.

  Distracted as I was by this new experience, I stared emptily at the door my friend marched us towards, forgetting my place.  The Imperial guards looked at me in concern, and I only stared back at them unthinking until Derkeethus elbowed me in the side.  "Speak when you're asked a question, recruit!" he barked.

  "Yes, sir. What was the question, sir?" I purposefully slurred, squinting my eyes and clutching my head as if in pain.

  "Nevermind her, Captain.  I can see she's too injured to think.  Better take her down to the infirmary posthaste.  Get yourself there too, you've started to bleed," one of the guards advised, looking the Argonian and I up and down critically.  Derk nodded brusquely before ushering me into the building.  Into the Imperial Headquarters.