"We can't just kill them! They haven't done anything wrong!"
"They've stolen and robbed half the residents of the valley!"
"This one didn't. Look, he was only standing guard."
"Valindor, we have to pass through if we want to make it to Riverwood before full dark."
"Isn't there a way around?"
"No, we already searched the hills, and unless you want to go mountain climbing in the dark, this is the only way," I sighed in exasperation as we hauled the bandit's dead body away into the shadows. Our breath hung in the air, the chill of the nearby mountains tainting the otherwise warm, spring climate. Valindor glared at me crossly from across the corpse. "All right, we'll try sneaking through, but we can't let any of them follow us to town if they do spot us."
My friend opened his mouth to protest further, but a shadow crossed his features. With a grim nod, he followed me at a crouch through the stone arch. Brelye clopped as silently as he could as the Bosmer guided him by the bridle. His head was, however, held high and nostrils flared, looking for danger.
Inside the walls, the world fell into an unnatural silence. Smoke drifted in a low haze near the ground. Houses lay, dilapidated, demolished, and burned along the track leading from the gate. Near at hand, a body lay clutching its face, charred beyond recognition. A general odor of charcoal and burning hair infiltrated the breeze.
"What happened here?" whispered Valindor, glancing at the charred man, his face a delicate shade of green. Obviously a fire, I thought, but I knew that wasn't what he was asking. Then, I spotted the claw marks on the stone, some as thick as my arm.
"A dragon came here," I concluded as we stalked down an alley behind several houses.
"Must have been big." His fingers dipped into the grooves, disturbing tiny fragments of the wall and sending them skittering down in a soft hiss.
"Yes. Let's keep moving. There's another gate up ahead."
However, the gate was locked and no amount of fumbling or tickling the lock could release it. Frustrated, I drew my sword and bashed the lock with the pommel. The crash rang brightly through the air, and in spite of my efforts, the band of iron held fast.
"Look what we have here. A couple of travelers hopin' to sleep the night away from the scawy woods?" taunted a reedy voice behind us. Turning, my grip on my sword tightening, I faced the steel-plated bandit across the track as he leaned casually on his sword. He came from another archway that opened into a wide plaza dominated by a tower.
"We want no quarrel with you. We're only passing through," declared Valindor, his voice wavering in nervousness.
"We have no gold," I added.
"That horse says different. Now, hold still while I rob you and I'll let you live!"
He charged, longsword held high. Brelye and Meeko bolted while Valindor deftly stepped aside and the blade sank into damp soil. The Bosmer, his expression taught, fumbled a little with his bow as he knocked an arrow to the string. With a tremendous yank, the bandit pulled his sword out of the ground, sending clods of earth flying through the air. I circled behind him, looking for a weak point in the joints of the armor. At first there weren't any--the plates meshed too closely together--then he lifted his arms to swing the blade down in a wide arc and his cuirass shifted to expose his kidneys for a brief moment.
Valindor dodged a second blow, stumbling backwards until he collided with the remains of a porch railing. "Henny! Help!"
Dipping, I slashed at the padding at the back of the bandit's knees, forcing him to kneel. "Shoot at his eyes!" I called, forcing the point of my blade under the exposed gap of armor and into his lower back. He cried out in pain and expletives.
"You're not--who are y--" he choked. The thrum of a plucked string hummed followed by a light scraping of metal and a dull, wet thump. With a soft sigh he tumbled to the ground, an arrow protruding from the eyehole of his helmet. I grabbed Valindor's arm and dragged him after me towards another gate at the western end of the path. About us, other bandits came running out of fallen buildings, crashed stairwells, collapsed towers. A bang resounded off the walls as I crashed into the gate's large, wooden door. Arrows peppered the wood near my head, and I ducked, using my arm to shield my face. Frantically, we fiddled with the lock, trying to pry it open, but failing.
The bandits were closing in, and though I picked off a few with my bow, many were too well armored for my shots to do much good. I wished desperately that my ability to conjure animals was restored, but even as I tried, I felt nothing in my hands but a fitful flickering presence. A bandit lobbed his axe towards Valindor's shaking form, and I knocked it aside with my sword. The blow sent vibrations ringing painfully up my arms. All was lost. We were done. I prepared to make a last stand, holding my sword high and gripping Val's palm with my left hand.
Suddenly, the bandits near the back of the crowd parted and scattered as Brelye, led by Meeko, who gripped the trailing reins in his teeth, charged the men, knocking a few down and dispersing the rest. The horse, his voice fairly singing with fury, reared and kicked as he circled us protectively. One of his kicks connected with the gate, and the over-stressed lock snapped, the doors swinging free.
"Get on!" I shouted, mounting and hauling Valindor onto the horse in one motion. His arms cinched tightly about my waist and with one last kick aimed at a surly-looking Khajiit, Brelye thundered away from Helgen, Meeko running lightly in his wake.
For a while the bandits gave chase, and as we reached a fork in the road, I drove the horse off into the pine woods, further up into the mountains. "Where are we going?" the Bosmer murmured in my ear.
"Away from where they'll think we're going. If we follow the road, we'll lead them to Riverwood or back towards Lake Ilinalta. We'll try to lose them in the forest and snow, first."
I could hear their cries to each other as we wove through the tall pines, our breath streaming behind us like a Dwemer engine. Eventually, even those cries faded into the night, and I discovered a deer trail following the curve of mountain range that housed Hrothgar the Tall. The trail sloped gently downward, winding generally north toward the plains of Whiterun. A warm breeze gusted from beyond the trees looming on our left, and with it came the smell of the river. I guided Brelye in that direction.
With a yawn and a shifting of muscles, I found myself gazing down at Riverwood sleeping in its valley. Valindor leaned around me to look, and I felt him sigh behind me.
"I haven't been here since..."
"Since I fell off the mountain?" I replied with a smirk.
"You nearly died. You were lucky Faendal and I happened to be hunting that morning."
There was a pause as we watched the village. "Doesn't Faendal live here still?" I asked.
"Ah! That reminds me. I should pay him a visit. In the morning of course." I nodded, and shivered a little in the night chill. It was late, and we were wasting time observing a village when we could be in it and somewhere warm. Brelye, smelling fresh hay and other horses, nickered and loped easily down the winding path descending into Riverwood.
The rain at last abated and the rush of the river was comforting and familiar as we trotted through the town. The night watch regarded us suspiciously at first, but then, recognizing Valindor's face, paid us no mind.
At last, the inn's lanterns glowed brightly, and with no small amount of gratitude, I stopped before the inn. Valindor lept off the horse, extending a hand to help me down. I looked at him skeptically, foregoing his assistance and sliding to the ground of my own accord, studiously pretending not to see the flicker of dismay that crossed his face as I tied Brelye to the rickety wooden fence.
Exhausted, damp, cold, hungry, and tired, we retired to the Sleeping Giant Inn.
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