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<\/p>\nIt seemed years ago that she had last walked into Windhelm, to get Roggi outfitted for their trip to Whiterun.<\/p>\n
She had hired a carriage in Solitude rather than walk all the way across the coldest part of Skyrim.\u00a0 A thick bearskin cloak that nearly buried her had made for an excellent wrap, in spite of needing to buy it from an Altmer shopkeeper who was possibly the most obnoxious woman she\u2019d ever met. Even so, she felt more like an icicle than anything else by the time they arrived before the great bridge in Windhelm.\u00a0 It was just as gray and bleak as it had been when she\u2019d first seen it. But the prospect of coming away with nearly enough money to buy her own house made the task at hand just too exciting to pass up.<\/p>\n
Dag thought about what she knew of Windhelm.\u00a0 She was really reluctant to rob Oengul; he\u2019d been very nice to her.\u00a0 There were a couple other stalls in the marketplace that might have something interesting in them, primarily the one where a Bosmer woman had been selling a lot of miscellaneous goods. And of course, the apothecary was just off the marketplace, full of valuable and expensive potions and ingredients.\u00a0 First, though, she wanted to check the Jarl\u2019s palace, the Palace of Kings.\u00a0 The Blue Palace in Solitude would have been a goldmine.\u00a0 There had to be something good here as well.<\/p>\n
Like the main gate, the doors into the palace were of thick, stern metal.\u00a0 She heaved them open and stepped inside.<\/p>\n
It was bleak.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
It was an enormous, long room, empty but for an enormous, long table and the enormous throne at the far end, as unwelcoming a seat as she\u2019d ever seen. To be fair, there was<\/em> color in this room, a long carpet beneath the table and some fine hangings above the throne, but their icy blue made the gray of the place seem as cold as the weather outside.\u00a0 There was food on the table, but the settings were of glazed Nordic make, not the valuable silver she\u2019d found in Solitude.\u00a0 It would take far too many pieces of that to make up five hundred septims of value.<\/p>\n She was moving toward the nearest doorway, at the left of this hall, when she heard a raspy voice.<\/p>\n \u201cBalgruuf won\u2019t give us a straight answer.\u201d<\/p>\n What came next froze her in mid-stride.<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s a true Nord.\u00a0 He\u2019ll come around.\u201d<\/p>\n Brynjolf had a deep voice, appealing, persuasive, sometimes soothing, like a big cat purring.\u00a0 Roggi had a rich but lighter voice, warm like the honeyed mead he so enjoyed.\u00a0 This voice, though; this was the sound of thunder speaking with a human tongue.<\/p>\n It was a stunning sound, overwhelming to Dag.\u00a0 It was as deep as the ocean, mountains shifting their mighty weight, heavy with power.<\/p>\n A large Nord with a thick mane of blonde hair swept into the room and stepped up the dais, lowering himself into the great throne. He looked to be middle-aged, with deep lines and a weathered face, and yet still in his full strength. He wore a lush blue robe and heavy furs over his armor, with huge pauldrons that made him look even more imposing than he already would have.<\/p>\n Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak.\u00a0 There was nobody else it could be.<\/p>\n The other man who had followed him into the room was older, wearing what looked like a bear\u2019s head atop his own, clearly a warrior.\u00a0 He had been talking, but she hadn\u2019t heard a word he\u2019d said, so mesmerized had she been by the sheer presence of the Jarl.\u00a0 There was a pause as the man waited for Ulfric to reply.<\/p>\n \u201cHe knows that. They all know that.\u201d<\/p>\n By all the gods, Dag thought.\u00a0 The sound went right through her.<\/p>\n Her mind cast back to the enormous sound that Dardeh had made taking down Kematu.\u00a0 Dardeh had a very deep speaking voice, as well, but that sound he\u2019d made, that Shout \u2013 that had been a different kind of experience completely, terrifying in much the same way the roar of the dragon had been. And she wanted to run, now, the same way she had from the dragon.<\/p>\n The guards, the people she\u2019d met in her travels with J\u2019Hall, so many of them had said Ulfric Stormcloak had killed the High King of Skyrim with his voice.\u00a0 She had no doubt now.\u00a0 Ulfric could do the same thing Dardeh had done.\u00a0 He carried some of that power in his everyday speech. It was merely a glimmer, a hint, but it was there.<\/p>\n The thought of it terrified her.<\/p>\n And yet this was the man Roggi had sneered about.\u00a0 \u201cHe doesn\u2019t ask. He orders.\u201d\u00a0 Dag thought for a moment about the prospect of a small Nord woman standing before this overwhelming man and turning him down, and her heart broke just a bit more for Roggi that he had lost someone with that kind of strength.<\/p>\n That was strength that Dag did not have.<\/p>\n She turned and fled.<\/p>\n She went to the inn, got a warm drink, and sat before the fire for some time considering what to do next.\u00a0 It would have to be quickly done so that she could leave Windhelm.\u00a0 She had no illusions that Ulfric Stormcloak would ever meet her or ask her to do a single thing, but there was no question in her mind that if he did, she would not be able to say no.\u00a0 She understood, now, where Oengul\u2019s assistant had come by her star-struck, obvious infatuation. She needed to be far away from him.\u00a0 She wanted nothing to do with him. It was hard enough to deal with Brynjolf.<\/p>\n Hours went by, the sun set, and people in the inn filtered away to their rooms or their homes.\u00a0 Dag had been thoroughly warmed by the fire, and didn\u2019t feel quite as disoriented and shaken.\u00a0 It must have been the cold, she thought.\u00a0 It froze my common sense.\u00a0 There is no such thing as a voice that can compel people to do something they do not wish to do.<\/p>\n In the meantime, she had decided on a target.\u00a0 She crept back to the marketplace and waited until the lone, sleepy guard walked around the half-wall to warm himself by Oengul\u2019s forge.\u00a0 It was the opportunity she needed to pick the lock of the apothecary shop and slip a number of very expensive potions and handfuls of rare ingredients into her pack.\u00a0 She was sure she had well more than the amount of goods Delvin had asked her to get.<\/p>\n By the time she trekked out of the city and down to the stables, there was the faint rose glow of sunrise in the sky.\u00a0 She spent a few more coins to hire a ride to Riften, to take her past Kynesgrove as quickly and quietly as possible.<\/p>\n It seemed years ago that she had last walked into Windhelm, to get Roggi outfitted for their trip to Whiterun. She had hired a carriage in Solitude rather than walk all the way across the coldest part of Skyrim.\u00a0 A thick bearskin cloak that nearly buried her had made for an excellent wrap, in spite … <\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/baakay.com\/FanFic\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/09\/1-2-5-2.png\")
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<\/p>\nPart II: Shadows<\/a><\/div>\nPrevious<\/a> \/ Next<\/a><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"