He tried to rest, but sleep eluded him. Between his wolf blood and the shock of reading Kodlak’s thoughts about him, he was simply too agitated to sleep. He heard the others sliding into their cots, their breathing turning to light snores. He was happy someone was sleeping. It surely wasn’t him.
He wanted to wait, to give Eorlund the chance to rest before giving him Kodlak’s fragment of Wuuthrad. Once he couldn’t stand it any longer, he made his way up out of Jorrvaskr to find a dreary, mostly-overcast early morning.
It looks like I feel.
Eorlund was already at work. Chip approached the old man at the tanning rack and cleared his throat. “I have the fragment for you,” he said quietly.
“Thank you,” Eorlund answered, the sincerity he packed into two simple words reminding Chip why he liked the old smith so much. “Your shield-siblings have withdrawn to the Underforge. I think they’re waiting for you.”
Chip felt himself flushing. If they’re waiting for me, then I’ve kept them waiting for hours. Good grief, they’re going to hate me. Especially if I tell them what Kodlak’s journal said!
I just won’t tell them. That’s the only way.
“Ok, thanks. Good luck with remounting Wuuthrad,” he said. “It’ll be good to see the display full again.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Kodlak murmured, rising from his position at the rack to rustle around in a bag resting on the side of the forge.
Chip returned down the stairs and around the corner to open the Underforge. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he heard Vilkas continuing what was clearly an ongoing argument.
“The old man had one wish before he died, and he didn’t get it,” he grumbled. “It’s as simple as that.”
Farkas was standing next to the wall, frowning, silent, and clearly deep in thought. Aela, though, looked animated and not necessarily in a good way.
“Being moonborn is not so much of a curse as you might think, Vilkas,” she snapped.
Oh good. And I thought Vilkas and I were the ones with the rough relationship.
“That’s fine for you,” Vilkas snapped, “but he wanted to be clean! He wanted to meet Ysgramor and know the glories of Sovngarde! But all that was taken from him.”
Chip stepped toward Farkas, who looked up at him but didn’t speak. Chip’s gut twisted anxiously. Farkas hadn’t said a word directly to Chip in the entire time since Chip returned from Glenmoril.
And what would he say to me, anyway? Face it, I don’t know him as well as I would like to think I did. Perhaps he feels it is all my fault. Maybe it is.
“And you avenged him, you and Chip,” Aela said, sounding impatient.
Farkas gave Chip another long look and then, as Chip walked away, finally spoke.
“Kodlak did not care for vengeance.”
Chip winced. He’s right. He didn’t like it when Aela and I tried to avenge Skjor and he sure wouldn’t have wanted to see what Vilkas and I just did. But they deserved it.
“No, Farkas, he didn’t,” Vilkas said. “And that’s not what this is about. We should be honoring Kodlak, no matter our own thoughts on the blood.”
All of them were silent for a moment. Chip found himself sharing a long look with Aela. She was, he knew, the most closely aligned with him on the question of being a werewolf. Farkas was – well, who knew what Farkas was. He certainly hadn’t shrunk away from turning when the need arose, but he was clearly troubled by the whole thing.
Were we wrong, Aela? Should we have left the Silver Hand be, after we retrieved Skjor’s body? I don’t think so but… was Kodlak right?
Aela sighed. “You’re right, Vilkas. I hate to say it, but you’re right. It’s what he wanted. And he deserved to have it.”
Her voice was quiet and subdued. Chip knew she didn’t share Kodlak’s feelings about the blood. They weren’t unclean, after all. They were both majestic, powerful hunters. But so had Kodlak been, and he had wanted to be cured.
“Kodlak used to speak of a way to cleanse his soul, even in death.” Vilkas said.
Chip finally found his voice. “That’s why he’d sent me away, Vilkas, before the Silver Hand attacked. He wanted me to get the head of a Glenmoril witch. I know it had something to do with a cure. We… argued about it, but I did as he asked because – well, because it was Kodlak! That’s why I wasn’t here, when… you know.”
Vilkas gave him a long stare and then nodded. “Hmm. And now it makes more sense, and I am sorry to have been so angry at you.” He turned toward Aela. “You know the legends of the Tomb of Ysgramor.”
“’There, the souls of the Harbingers will heed the call of northern steel.’ But we can’t even enter the tomb without Wuuthrad. And it’s in pieces, like it has been for a thousand years.”
“And dragons were just stories,” a familiar voice came from the shadows. “And elves once ruled Skyrim. Just because something is, doesn’t mean it always must be. A blade is a weapon. A tool. Tools are meant to be broken – and repaired.” Eorlund stepped out of the shadows into the light cast by Aela’s torch. Before him he held a huge, double-bladed battleaxe.
Vilkas gasped. “Is that… did you repair the blade?”
“No wonder you wanted that fragment!” Chip blurted out before he had a chance to stop himself. You sly old dog! You knew it was the final one!
“This is the first time I’ve had all the pieces, thanks to our shield-brother here,” Eorlund said. “The flames of a hero can reforge the shattered. The flames of Kodlak refueled the rebirth of Wuuthrad. And now it will take you to meet him once more.”
As Eorlund stepped toward them, Chip thought he saw an almost mischievous glint in his eye at having surprised the Circle with Wuuthrad. Chip approved. Eorlund hadn’t given the least hint that he was going to repair the axe; a wise decision given the chance, slight as it was, that the repair would fail.
“As the one who bore the fragments, I think you should be the one to carry Wuuthrad into battle,” Eorlund said, extending the weapon toward Chip.
Chip froze. “Me?” he squeaked. “I can’t! I… I don’t even know how to use a two-handed weapon! I use short blades and a bow!”
“Take Wuuthrad, whelp,” Vilkas snorted. “It’s an honor that you earned.”
“He’s right,” Aela added.
“Aw, come on, Chip,” Farkas said. “You won’t have to fight with it. Vilkas and I will have your back if we meet something that needs a big blade. Besides, big blades are better than little ones. That’s what I think, anyway.”
Chip watched the grin break across Farkas’ face and laughed. “Ok. I’ll take Wuuthrad. Now what?”
“You should all prepare to journey to the tomb of Ysgramor,” Eorlund answered. “For Kodlak!”
“For Kodlak!” the others responded, exiting the Underforge. Chip took a moment to admire Eorlund’s work. He could barely see the marks where the pieces had once been broken. He also could barely lift the axe, which weighed many times either of his blades.
I’ll really have to take Farkas at his word. There’s no way I could fight using something like this!
By the time he reached the tomb the sun was dipping behind the tallest of the western mountains. The barrow was on an island northwest of Winterhold now, but likely had been attached to the mainland before the Great Collapse. It seemed fitting to Chip that Ysgramor was entombed here near Saarthal, the oldest of human settlements on Tamriel. His son Yngol was buried somewhere near Windhelm, not far from where Harald Stormcloak now lived. It seemed fitting.
Chip ran down into the open barrow and pushed open its doors. Down a few steps from the entry was a large, circular room. Aela, Farkas, and Vilkas waited near a central dais holding an oversized statue of a man wearing ancient Nordic armor. Vilkas stepped forward to greet him.
“This is the resting place of Ysgramor and his most trusted generals,” Vilkas said.
“Yeah. Is this him? This statue?”
“Yes. You should be cautious,” Vilkas replied with an odd, guarded look on his face.
“Cautious? Why?” Chip asked.
“The original Companions,” Vilkas said. “The Five Hundred you’ve heard about all your life, who sailed back to Skyrim from Atmora after the Night of Tears at Saarthal. Their finest warriors rest with Ysgramor. You’ll have to prove yourselves to them.” He shifted his weight back and forth a bit before continuing. “It’s not that we’re intruding. I’d wager they’ve expected us. They just want to be sure that you’re worthy. Be ready for an honorable battle.”
Something about the way he’d been phrasing things caught Chip’s ear, and he frowned. “What do you mean, I’ll have to be ready? There are four of us here. Are you not coming? You’re the one Kodlak confided in first, aren’t you?”
Vilkas sighed and shrugged his shoulders, looking almost defeated. “Yes. And Kodlak was right. I… I let vengeance rule my heart. I regret nothing of what we did at Driftshade, but I can’t go any further with my mind fogged and my heart grieved.”
Chip looked silently at Vilkas, not able to form any words. His heart broke for this brave, fierce wolf who had only reacted out of passion, just as he himself had done. All he could do was nod.
Oh, Vilkas. You don’t know what great esteem Kodlak had for you, in what high regard he held you. He wouldn’t fault you for what we did, I’m certain of it. And I can’t tell you how I know that without giving away the secret of what he wrote in his journal. For that, for knowing that… I am the one who should be ashamed.
“Alright,” he said at last. “How do we get inside?”
“Return Wuuthrad to Ysgramor,” Vilkas said, nodding. “It should open the way.”
Chip stepped up to the statue and looked it over, realizing that its arms and hands were up in a posture to hold a great weapon. He wrestled Wuuthrad off his back and carefully fitted it into Ysgramor’s hands, stepping back when he was certain the axe was secure. As he did, a thick stone slab lowered into the floor, revealing a passage beyond.
Chip walked around the statue, sharing a glance with Aela. It seemed odd that the two of them, who least wanted to be free of their lycanthropy, should be among those to set Kodlak’s spirit free; but here they were. Chip found himself taking point, with Aela and Farkas following silently behind.
The first major chamber looked empty; but the moment he stepped into it two ghosts appeared, one from either side. He raised his bow, but before he could shoot both Aela and Farkas rushed past him.
“All the living shall fear the dead!” one of the ghostly Companions cried.
“I’m going to put you down!” Farkas responded, laying into the ghost with one of the most enormous attacks Chip had ever seen. Aela was busy with another skeever, and once it was dead she engaged with the other ghost. As the momentum of Farkas’ swing took him forward, Chip found the opening behind him to take down the ghost to their left. All three of them attacked the remaining spirit, and a moment later it dissipated.
“Good enough,” Farkas said.
“Yeah,” Chip replied. “Let’s see what this next set of doors is hiding.”
The doors opened into a great, stately hall that must have been a glorious sight when first constructed. It was lined with sarcophagi and ceremonial tables, with another coffin at its center. Chip sensed that there were going to be spirits rising up from either side.
“Be ready,” Aela said. “This doesn’t look promising.”
As expected, the moment they stepped into the room three spirits appeared: one in front of the central coffin and two before each of the sarcophagi at the back wall. Chip had already taken aim at one of those and was able to sink an arrow into its spirit a moment after it appeared. He swiveled left; and as he picked away at the other of the paired spirits a fourth emerged just below them from the right. Farkas and Aela fought them until Chip had dispatched his target and could join them. Aela ran back up the steps and brought out her bow. Like Chip, she was primarily an archer; they staggered their shots to avoid Farkas and his greatsword, and before long the other spirits were done as well.
The route forward turned again, descending into another great chamber. This one was low enough that water from the Sea of Ghosts had seeped in. Anything wooden was soggy and moldering, and a mist hung over the shallow pools standing on the floor. But there were even more coffins here, and even more of Ysgramor’s Companions emerging to challenge their passage. Chip counted at least five or six of them. As before, he and Aela worked with their bows while Farkas hammered away with his sword.
“Gods, no!” Aela cried from his right. Chip whirled, startled at her desperate cry, and reached for one of his arrows of Hircine. This time it was a saber cat that emerged from the ball of conjuration.
“Go get ‘em, buddy!” he shouted, grabbing more elven arrows and swiveling back to finish off what he’d started at the end of the hall. It seemed forever to take those two spirits down. As the second of them finally disappeared, he heard the saber cat’s conjuration dissipate.
And then it was silent. He could neither hear nor see either Farkas or Aela.
“Gods, no!” he cried in a panicked echo of Aela’s distress. “Farkas? Aela? Where are you?” He ran to where they’d been fighting the three spirits and, thankfully, saw no bodies. He turned this way and that, looking for his friends. Finally he ran back up the staircase from which they’d come.
“You call yourself a Nord?” Aela was growling at one of the spirits.
Chip’s legs almost gave out from relief. Whether the spirits had fled first or the living, he couldn’t tell; but all of them – Aela, Farkas, and the remaining adversaries – had retreated to the upper levels of the tomb and were fighting as hard as ever. He followed Aela up through the first great hall and then, hearing a familiar cry, realized to his shock that one of the ghosts had gone all the way back to the entrance and had engaged Vilkas.
Well, this distance should help. Let me see if I can’t peel this ghost off Vilkas.
Chip and Aela both fired arrows at the stubborn spirit. He didn’t know which one of them struck, or whether they both did. It didn’t matter; the ghost went down, and Farkas came trotting back down the stairs to join them.
“You ok, Farkas?” he asked.
“Yeah. Couldn’t let that mangy ghost get my brother. Now it’s gone. Let’s keep going.”
The three of them walked slowly back through the two chambers, sloshing through the water in the second. Chip picked up arrows as he spotted them; many had missed their mark and others, it seemed, had simply flown through the ghosts. He was bent over retrieving another when Farkas passed him to walk up the steps to the next doorway. A moment later he heard Farkas hiss, and he snapped to attention.
“What is it?”
Farkas stood in the doorway, rigid. He took a step backward as Chip approached, confused. Then he glanced past Farkas’ broad shoulders. The next room was filled with huge spider egg sacs.
“I’m sorry,” Farkas said, “but I can’t go any further, Shield-Brother.”
“The spiders?”
Farkas turned to face Chip, his face pale, and nodded. “Ever since Dustman’s Cairn, the big crawly ones have been too much for me.” He looked embarrassed. “Everyone has his weakness, and this one is mine.”
Chip heaved a sigh of relief. He’d been concerned that Farkas was injured, or had been poisoned while he’d not been watching. He thought back to his first trip to Hircine’s Hunting Grounds, being chased in the dark; and a shudder ran up his back.
“It’s ok, Farkas.” I understand being afraid. Everyone’s afraid of something, sometime.
Farkas nodded. “I’m not proud, but I will stay back with Vilkas.”
“Alright. Make sure Vilkas is ok. Aela and I will make it to the end.” He looked to her, and she nodded agreement. He thought it fitting, somehow, that the oldest and the youngest left among them should be the ones to meet Kodlak in the end; and he could see that she agreed.
“Give my regards to Ysgramor,” Farkas said quietly.
Chip smiled. How like him it was to speak of Ysgramor as though he was some old familiar friend.
“I will,” he said simply.
Chip pondered their next move as he listened to Farkas’ retreating footsteps sloshing through the water. Spiders, he could deal with. Spiders would go down easily enough. He could see a couple of them skittering around beyond the webs blocking the doorway.
“I’m going to use my blades,” he told Aela. She nodded.
“Need to chop down the webs anyway. I’ll be right behind you.”
There were four of them back there. Four times, the chamber exploded with the sound of Grabber taking whatever life-force a spider had. By the time he was done, Chip was panting.
“See, this is why I didn’t want to use Wuuthrad. I get winded just swinging a few blades around.”
Aela chuckled. “Anyone would. Those are big spiders.”
There was another webbed door just beyond them. When they stepped through, an enormous spider dropped from the ceiling and attacked alongside a smaller specimen. Aela started firing at the smaller one. Chip started slashing at the larger of them as hard as he could.
He was making good headway against the beast when it suddenly leaped at him, its fangs bared. He gasped as the bite took him, the pain of the punctures made all the more exquisite by the freezing cold venom and the nausea that followed. He cried out, but gritted his teeth and kept slashing, almost blindly. There was nothing else he could do. He was fading fast, though, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Aela’s bowstring twanged as she did all she could to help. Just as his eyes closed and he was about to fall, he heard an enormous explosion of sound. Grabber had done its job one more time. He immediately started healing himself as best he could, and then rooted around in his pack for a poison antidote lest he keep fading more.
“Gods, that was awful!” he said between gritted teeth. “Thanks, Aela. I thought I’d had it there for a minute!”
“This is why you never go into a dungeon without a shield-sibling,” she said. “Are you going to be alright?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Better already. Give me just a second. I’m going to… I don’t know, eat some cheese or something. Get a little strength back.” He laughed weakly. “I’m glad Farkas wasn’t here for that.”
“There’s no shame to be had in being wary of foes as big as that,” she said. “Farkas is as fierce as they come, and as strong. But if spiders are his undoing, so be it. I’ll not think less of him.”
“Nor will I,” Chip said, feeling better now that the potions were working in his system. “Let’s go.”
Beyond the huge spider carcasses was a closed gate, its mechanism just beside the doorway. Chip frowned. Too many times he’d found that this kind of gate was more to keep what was on the other side contained than it was to keep people like him out. He pulled the chain anyway, and stepped through the gate as it rose.
It was a different, but familiar type of barrow room beyond them, mostly round, large, but with pillars of stone blocking the view from several vital angles. Aela pushed past him, saying “I thought I heard something.”
At least three ghosts emerged, possibly four. In just moments Aela was being overwhelmed.
Crap. This won’t be good; there’s just the two of us.
He took a quick shot at one of the ghosts, but the arrow bounced off one of the stone pillars. He hissed. There were too many obstructions and no clear lines of sight; and he couldn’t fire at the ghosts that were swarming Aela for fear of striking her.
I don’t have time for this.
He pulled out the Totem of Hircine and slammed it to the floor. He should have been used to the results, by now; but it was utter chaos that followed. Chip lost track of where Aela was in the dark, so he focused on the ghosts he could see clearly, away from the half-dozen werebeasts that emerged one after another.
It went silent suddenly, after the inevitable noise of conjurations dissipating. It seemed to have taken only moments.
“Aela?”
“What was that?”
She stared at him. It was the first time he’d ever seen her look confused. He handed her the staff to look at, as he had Vilkas.
“It’s a boon I had from Lord Hircine. A prize for felling the prey in his Hunting Grounds. You saw what it does.”
Aela turned it over in her hands several times and then handed it back to him, almost reverently. “From Hircine himself?” She paused for a moment as if choosing her words carefully. “I was ready to say that was a dishonorable way to win a battle. But you had the staff from Hircine himself? I’m impressed, Shield-Brother. Very impressed.”
Chip was glad she couldn’t see his face, for he felt himself blushing. “I’ve been trying to get answers for a while now. I felt like I needed to prove myself. I… think maybe you’re the only one who can appreciate what this staff means to me.”
They didn’t have time to discuss it further. Beyond the huge pillars that had been such a problem, the chamber opened up into another long, rectangular room. Three more spirits challenged them. This time, though, the lines of sight were open and both archers had clean shots at the enemy. One of them got close to Aela; but she unconcernedly shot it down as he finished off the last one.
Beyond a metal door at the end of the hall was a small room, flickering with candlelight. Chip moved into it cautiously, his bow at the ready, but nothing happened. He spied a pull handle in a pedestal at the far end of the room, which undoubtedly worked the closed metal gate to their left.
“Be ready,” Chip told her. “I’m going to pull that thing and I expect company once the gate rises.”
He was right. The moment they stepped across the threshold they were swarmed by the spirits of ancient Companions.
Vilkas wasn’t kidding, he thought as he pulled out the Totem once more. And I have no patience to play with them. Once again the world was drowned out by the roaring of werebeasts; once more it took only minutes before they returned to Oblivion and left Chip’s ears ringing. He retrieved the Totem and stepped into the chamber dominated by a huge mammoth’s skull with one tusk missing, resting on a central offering table.
“Wow,” he breathed. “Just… wow.”
Aela chuckled. “Now you sound like Farkas. Do I start calling you Ice-Brain?”
“I could do worse,” he said, grinning at her.
They pushed forward, past the mammoth and up a set of steps. Opening the wooden doors beyond, Chip saw that they’d reached their destination: a huge, elegant burial chamber, heavy with the weight of ancient carvings and flickering lights. He could see the sarcophagus on the far side of the room, secure behind two braziers and a cage door. In the center of the room was an altar of sorts, with a brazier atop it, burning with a pale, blue, otherworldly light.
“Let’s go say hello to Ysgramor,” Aela said softly.
As Chip neared the altar he frowned. There was something odd about the blue flames, something that he couldn’t see clearly until he got right up next to it. Then he gasped. Just past the pillar, standing as if to warm his hands over the blue fire, was a spirit – one Chip recognized.
“Kodlak?”
“Greetings, Shield-Brother,” the familiar voice answered.
Chip felt a lump rise into his throat. “Is it really you?”
“Of course. My fellow Harbingers and I have been warming ourselves here, trying to evade Hircine.”
“What others? I only see you.”
“You see only me because your heart knows only me as the Companions’ leader. I’d wager old Jarl Vignar could see half a dozen of my predecessors. And I see them all: the ones in Sovngarde, the ones trapped in Hircine’s realm.”
Chip winced at that, and felt a flicker of anger; but he didn’t wish to argue with Kodlak. They were here to fulfill his wishes.
“And they all see you,” Kodlak continued. “You’ve brought honor to the name of the Companions. We won’t soon forget it.”
“I don’t know about that, the honor part,” Chip said, thinking of how he’d devoured all the dead at Driftshade. “But thank you, anyway. Now then. Vilkas said you might be cured?”
“Did he, now?” Kodlak chuckled, his voice full of warmth. “I can only hope. And I see you have the witch’s heads! Excellent! Throw one of them into the fire! It will release their magic – for me, at least.”
Chip nodded. “That’s why we’re here.”
He dug into the grisly sack of heads he’d carried back from Glenmoril Coven and pulled one out. Frowning in distaste, he threw it onto the flames and watched it begin to burn.
He’d never seen Kodlak transform, in the time they’d known each other. But he recognized the grimace of pain and the contortions that the old man’s ghost performed almost immediately. And then it was different; rather than changing into a wolf himself, Kodlak’s spirit … divided. There was Kodlak, in the same bluish, transparent form; and there was a wolf. A huge wolf, dire and red, at least shoulder-height to Chip. He gasped; Kodlak as a werewolf must have been a foe to be reckoned with, a creature of immense power. It turned and snapped at Chip, who leaped backwards and drew his blades.
He should have been terrified.
But I remember. I remember the spirit saber cat, and the spirit mammoth, and the spirit troll, the guardian animals I fought so long ago now it seems like another lifetime. I defeated them. And I can defeat you now. I am not afraid of you.
He threw himself at the wolf, blades flashing. Aela and Kodlak stepped back in the face of his attacks. A moment later, the air exploded as the wolf spirit that had lived in Kodlak for so long fell to Grabber and was secured in one of the soul gems Chip carried.
He looked up at Kodlak’s spirit and smiled. “It’s done.”
“You’ve slain my beast spirit, and so slain the beast inside of me.” Kodlak paused for a moment, and took and released a deep breath. “I’m free. I thank you for this gift. The other Harbingers remain trapped by Hircine, though. Perhaps, from Sovngarde, the heroes of old can join me in their rescue. The Harrowing of the Hunting Grounds! It would be a battle of such triumph.” He smiled. “And perhaps, some day, you’ll join us in that battle.”
I wouldn’t count on it, Chip thought. But at this moment he had no heart to remind Kodlak that they didn’t agree on this point. If we meet each other in the Hunting Grounds – well, it’s likely I’ll be on the opposite side of the glorious battle.
“But for today,” Kodlak said, “return to Jorrvaskr. Triumph in your victory. And lead the Companions to further glory.”
Chip’s mouth fell open. “Uh…”
Before he could say more, Kodlak faded away.
By all the gods, he really meant what he wrote. Does he even know what he’s just done?
It was dead silent in the chamber for a moment. Then Aela spoke up.
“Did I hear right? Did he say you were to lead the Companions?”
“Uh… Aela…” He hardly knew what to say. It wasn’t right. Not at all. “Does this upset you?”
He was relieved when she didn’t hesitate a moment. “I’m just surprised. But your strength and honor are apparent to all. And it’s my honor to be the first to address you as Harbinger. Let’s go tell the others.”
I can’t do this. I can’t. Kodlak, and honor, and I’m just a kid compared to all the rest. A whelp! How can I possibly be Harbinger?
“Aela…”
She looked at him and smiled. “Something has shifted in the moons, brother. I’ve sensed the blood pulsing a little stronger, of late. I had assumed you had, as well.”
“I… think I have. I also think it’s a little ironic that the two of us should have been the ones to set Kodlak free.”
“I think our potential is on the rise. Hircine smiles on us. Let’s not question too much. The more we feed, the greater our prowess will grow.”
Chip blew out a breath. “Well if that’s the case, what happened after Vilkas and I cleared out Driftshade ought to have made me into a real… beast.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at himself.
“We could perhaps discover even more gifts of Hircine,” Aela said.
Chip blinked. More than the Totem? And his Ring? And the other ring that he’d purchased from their brothers on Solstheim? Then he remembered the book he’d found in Skjor’s room, and it dawned on him that she might be referring to that. He nodded slowly.
“Perhaps we shall. Are you going back to Jorrvaskr?”
“Eventually. But this – this is the tomb of Ysgramor. I think I’m just going to – commune, for a bit. This place is worthy of some time. You go on ahead. I’ll see you back there.”
Chip turned and ran back through all of the now-peaceful chambers of the tomb, to find Farkas and Vilkas standing watch at the statue of Ysgramor. He approached them cautiously, dreading what their reactions might be to his news.
Especially Vilkas. We seem to have some kind of uneasy truce between us, but this is going to be a shock.
“Hey guys,” he started; then shook his head at how stupid he must sound. “We cured Kodlak.”
Farkas grinned. “He’s not a werewolf anymore? Even dead? This is a good thing!”
“Not even dead, Farkas. His spirit is free. He’s gone to Sovngarde. But…”
“But what?” Vilkas said in that sharp tone of voice that put Chip’s teeth on edge.
“But he said I should lead the Companions now.”
Chip watched their reactions. Vilkas’ mouth dropped open for a moment, and his eyes narrowed. But Farkas’ face was relaxed, and he broke out into a smile.
“Aw, you don’t have to worry about any problems from me. I do what I’m told. Congratulations! You ever need my steel by your side? You just ask.”
“Thanks, Farkas,” Chip said, turning to face Vilkas with no little bit of trepidation. “I don’t know about this, Vilkas,” he said. Vilkas would be a much better fit. Not Aela. I don’t know what I sense in her but I’m not sure I like it. But Vilkas…
“You brought honor to Kodlak, even after his death. A worthy outcome for a worthy warrior. Now then. If you’d told me a few months ago that some outsider I’d never heard of would lead the Companions, I might have slit your throat. But I’ve seen what you can do, and heard of the love that Kodlak had for you. The trust. Let’s hope you can show that his heart was not deceived. Good luck, my friend.”
My friend. He actually called me his friend.
“I don’t know anything about leading anything. I’m not the leader type.”
“Aw, don’t say that, Chip,” Farkas interjected. “Your Da always said that too, and look at him!”
“Farkas!” Vilkas snapped.
Farkas chuckled. “We’re not supposed to know. Nobody is. But we do know. We just keep it our secret, like having the Blood. Nobody else knows.”
Suddenly Chip couldn’t help himself. He burst out laughing. “I guess I didn’t know that about Da,” he said. “He’s always been the leader as long as I’ve been around. At least as far as I know.” He found himself relaxing. “I’m going to head back,” he said. “And then…”
“And then we’ll send you out to find some family’s heirloom,” Vilkas snickered.
“Again,” Farkas added.