“No sir, I don’t like it,” Roggi said, shaking his head. “I don’t like any of it.”
They were all seated in front of the fire in Mammoth Manor. Everyone else was in one of the chairs but Harald had flopped down onto the fur rug. He’d told Dardeh and Roggi about answering the message from Mandyn Hlaalu, and meeting the Nerevarine in the depths of Kagrenar. Qaralana was biding her time quietly listening to the men, trying to hear between the lines.
Dardeh snorted. “You never like anything that might suggest a threat to Ulfric, Roggi.”
“It’s not that, Dar,” Roggi said in almost a growl. “I didn’t like it when someone was sending killers after you, way back when, and I don’t like it now. I don’t really trust this business of the Nerevarine, but that’s beside the point. It’s the whole idea that someone might be out to get to Ulfric through Harald, specifically. We need Harald to live.” He heaved a heavy sigh. “Someday you’re going to have to let that go, Dardeh. You just have to. It’s been – decades, now.” He looked back at Harald, who was sitting on the floor peering back and forth between the two older men. “So what were you saying about the Dunmer?”
Harald tsk’d. “I wasn’t. But I know better than to think I can keep something secret from you, Roggi, so here it is. Mandyn Hlaalu was Morag Tong. Bal-Ran suggested something like that, in a cryptic sort of way. The Nerevarine told me he thought my employers – meaning Hlaalu – were scum. When I looked through Hlaalu’s things I found this.” He pulled out a brittle-looking piece of paper and handed it to Roggi, who scanned it with his frown deepening. “Morag Tong. There’s your proof.”
Roggi growled under his breath as he stroked his beard, but oddly, to Qara’s eyes, he didn’t look shocked. “That’s the thing that bothers me the most, Harald. Hlaalu would have known he couldn’t possibly kill an immortal hero. The fact that he followed you there, knowing perfectly well who you were after, tells me that you were the real target.”
Harald nodded. “That’s what I concluded, as well.”
Dardeh grunted. “I see where you’re going with this. There’s no good reason for anyone to try to kill Harald unless it’s to get to his father. Sorry I jumped to the wrong conclusion, Roggi.”
“Again,” Roggi muttered.
“Again,” Dardeh rasped. “And I’m sorry for that, Roggi. But Harald – there’s nothing pleasant about being used as someone else’s tool. I definitely know that feeling. And I expect Qara does, as well.”
Qara glanced away from Harald and found that Dardeh was staring at her, an almost expectant look on his face.
“So what has happened?” he asked. “I know there’s something. I can feel it.”
“Well nothing, specifically. Nothing related to me in particular.”
Harald snorted, and turned to look at her. “You don’t think that four dragons in a single trip counts as something? Particularly when the third one made it clear he intended to kill you, specifically.”
Dardeh gasped. “Four?”
Qara sighed. Great. Thanks, Harald. “Yes. Four if you count the one that wouldn’t land, out at the other end of the lake.” She looked back at Harald. “And how did you know the third one was talking to me, anyway?”
“I may not be able to work with as many Dovahzul words as a Dragonborn but I understand enough of them to know when someone’s yelling ‘I’ll send you to your death.’”
“Well it’s not as if it’s just me, Harald,” she said. “Chip said he’s had a bunch of dragons after him in the last few weeks as well.”
“This isn’t right,” Dardeh muttered. “It just isn’t. Paarthurnax is supposed to have the rest of the dragons under his control.”
“He did, for a long time,” Roggi answered. “I wonder whether something happened to him.”
Once again Dardeh made a noise. “By the Nine,” he said under his breath. “Could it be?”
“Could what be, Uncle Dar?” Qara asked. I don’t like the way this is going. Not at all.
“If something has happened to Paarthurnax…” He trailed off, frowning. “But that makes no sense. The Greybeards are the only ones who can get up to where he is. And Qara, of course. I can’t do it any longer.”
Roggi rose from his chair and paced back and forth for a moment, clearly deep in thought. He came to rest by the railing that enclosed the staircase down, and sat down on it.
“Well I surely haven’t been up there since you introduced me to him.” Qara said, shaking her head. “I can’t imagine why anyone would want to. There’s nothing up there except for him.” She pointed back at Harald. “But what about Harald, and the assassins, and the ring he got from the Nerevarine? What do you think it means?”
Dardeh and Roggi exchanged a quick glance again. “What ring?” Roggi asked. “Let me take a look at it, Harald.”
Harald glared at Qara, briefly, and then sketched out what the Nerevarine had said about the ring just before they’d run off to kill the dragon at Mount Anthor. Then he rose and approached Roggi, showing him the ring. “I don’t know what it’s supposed to do, or mean,” he ended. “It’s got some kind of enchantment on it. It obviously didn’t kill me.”
“It was pretty brave of you to put it on, Harald,” Qara said quietly. “I’m not sure I could have, even with the man himself telling us it was ok.”
Roggi looked the ring over, and then shook his head. “I don’t know that I’d have been able to put it on either, Harald. I guess I’ve heard the old stories too many years. At any rate, it seems we have two problems at hand right now.”
“Yeah,” Dardeh said. “One is what to do about the assassin. The other is the dragons, and there’s only so much I can do about that since I…” He trailed off, waving at his own throat. Qara saw Roggi grimace, and then shake his head.
“It’s been hard on Dar to think about and strange for me as well,” he said quietly. “After all these years all we can do any more is help kill the dragon’s body. And then hope it doesn’t come back to life.”
“I think… that I need to follow up on something I should have done a long time ago,” Dardeh muttered, wreathed in a frown. “In the meantime, Roggi, as much as I hate to say it, I think you should go to Ulfric. Warn him about all these things going on.”
Harald nodded. “I need to go back to the Shrine of Azura anyway. The Nerevarine is translating an old Dwemer text for me.”
Qara bristled. They’re not leaving me out of this. “I’m coming north, too,” she said in a tone that left no room for argument. “You’re not going to travel alone, Harald.”
“Especially not to meet up with someone who’s had the Morag Tong looking for him for two hundred years,” Roggi said. “I could go with Harald, Qara…”
“No,” Dardeh said firmly. Even as bubbly and raspy as his voice was, it still carried authority. “Roggi, you need to stay with Ulfric and Frina until we figure out what is going on.”
Roggi arched one bushy eyebrow. “Dar, what?”
“I know how odd that must seem, love. But you know perfectly well that nobody is going to approach Ulfric with ill intent if you’re there. It’s the only course of action that feels safe to me.”
Harald cleared his throat. “Mother does have a suite set aside for the two of you since you wouldn’t take the house in the city. Father insisted. You can stay there, Roggi.”
Roggi and Dardeh exchanged a silent glance, and Dardeh nodded. “I’ll send word to Lydia that we’ll be at the palace until further notice.”
Roggi nodded. “Tell her to impress on the girls that they should stay put, also until further notice.”
“Good idea. I will.”
“Now then,” Harald continued, “I’m sorry to play royalty here, but as you are always reminding me, I’m next in line after Father. So I need something explained. Why would Roggi being in the Palace deter threats? I think it’s a good idea, mind you, but I need to understand.”
Qara held her breath. She’d wanted to understand this, too. There was something important about their relationship with the High King that had never fit together. She hadn’t ever dared to ask, because it really wasn’t her business; but Harald had a legitimate reason to know the truth. She watched as Dardeh and Roggi shared a quick glance. Dardeh nodded, and Roggi gave him a grim smile.
“What is it that everyone calls the room beneath the barracks, Harald?” Roggi asked quietly.
Harald smirked. “The Inquisitor’s Office, or Playroom. Some variation on those.”
Roggi nodded. “Well I’m the Inquisitor. Or I was. It was a long time ago, Harald, at least a decade before the battles against General Tullius. I helped… persuade… people to tell us things.”
Qara stared at him, unable to do anything else. What? He was a…
“But people remember, even now,” Dardeh added. “As much as I hate to admit it, it’s been a real boon to have old soldiers shudder when they look at your uncle.” He gave Roggi a bleak grin. “Nipped some problems right in the bud.”
“To say nothing of the pit fighters who know that name,” Roggi added with a chuckle. “I sort of added to my reputation with that little escapade.”
“Oh,” Harald breathed. “Really? That’s not just a story? Shor’s beard. Now it makes sense. I… uh…”
“Will be very happy to have him watching your father’s back,” Dardeh said, leaving no doubt that the discussion was concluded.
“Wow,” Qara said. That was all she could manage. She stared at Roggi’s face. Besides her father and Dardeh, he was the older man she loved most in the world. He’d never been anything but kind and gentle to her.
And to think that he…
And then she remembered him fighting the dragons. He’d been fierce. Fearless. His fighting was efficient and deadly. He’d had that look on his face.
It’s that desire to dominate. She glanced at Harald.
I’ve seen it on him, too. And even Daddy. So. There’s a reason Uncle Roggi has that in him as well. Who would have thought?
She rose from her chair and walked past them, toward the door, needing to pace out some of her shock.
“Are you alright, Qara?” she heard Roggi ask from behind her. “I know that’s not the kind of thing you learn about every day.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I am. Or I will be. I’m just trying to figure out where I fit in all of this.”
“Where you fit, Qaralana, is right in the middle of whatever is going on with the dragons,” Dardeh told her. “I’m not the Dragonborn anymore. I can’t do anything about them myself, and it’s clear that the dragons know it. They’re coming after you, not me. I think we need to find out what Ulfric thinks about the situation.”
Qara frowned. It didn’t make sense. “Why King Ulfric? What does he have to do with it?”
It was Harald who answered. “Don’t forget that if the Great War hadn’t happened, Qara, Father would have been one of the Greybeards himself. He trained with them for at least ten years. If he hadn’t left to help the Empire, well…“ He chuckled. “I guess I wouldn’t exist. But he has a perspective that none of the rest of us have.”
“Exactly,” Dardeh rasped. “And while Arngeir has always accepted me, he doesn’t exactly like me. He accepts Qara, but she doesn’t have the breadth of experience to ask the same questions I would ask. There are only a couple of people besides him we can ask about this and Ulfric is one of them.”
“Alright,” Qara said. “All of that makes sense. So we’ll go to Windhelm, I’ll go to the Shrine of Azura with Harald and then we’ll all meet back at the Palace, is that right?”
“Yes,” Roggi said. “Let me get my things together and we’ll be off.”
Dardeh waited until the three figures had faded completely out of sight beyond the crest of the hill leading to the tundra, to take the carriage from Whiterun to Windhelm. He didn’t much like the idea of sending Roggi off to spend time with Ulfric but he also knew that events were beginning to spiral out of control once more.
Something important is going on. It started when the coughing started but it’s much larger than that, and I need to address it, right now. I can’t just go traipsing off to keep an eye on things in Windhelm.
I’ll send off this message and hope the courier can get it delivered and get an answer back to me right away. Then I’ll go and – Talos help me – talk to Ulfric one-on-one. I need to know what he thinks about this without getting the information filtered through Roggi.
Then we’ll see about what we need to do. I have a suspicion, and I don’t like it. But it has to be done.
He went into the house and pulled a sheaf of paper, a quill, and an inkpot out of a cupboard near the dining table. He put the inkpot on the table and started pacing. It was going to be difficult – and crucial – to word things properly. Finally, he took a deep breath and started to write.
“Delphine – I know it’s been a very long time…”
“Hmm. Yes, I understand.”
High King Ulfric Stormcloak blinked slowly, staring out over their heads.
He doesn’t understand at all. He acts like he’s not even with us. Beside her, she saw her uncle and Harald exchanging a look. They don’t think so, either.
“Father,” Harald began, earning himself a sharp look from Ulfric. “Yes I know, I’m sorry,” he added in a hushed tone. “But there’s nobody else aside from us in here right now, and we need to talk to you.”
“Privately,” Roggi added firmly.
Qara thought there was a spark of anger in Ulfric’s eyes as he brought them around to meet Roggi’s piercing stare. Uncle Roggi’s in trouble now, she thought. But Ulfric heaved a sigh and nodded at Roggi after just a moment.
“Very well,” he said. “I should know better than to argue with you.” He waved toward the door to their right. “Take them upstairs, Harald. I’m sure your mother is somewhere, adding to the décor of all the rooms she’s opened up. She can show Roggi the residence. I’ll be up momentarily.”
Harald took a step back and performed the smallest of bows, and headed for the door. Roggi followed suit, and Qara, feeling more than a bit awkward, bobbed a small curtsey of respect for the High King and scurried along behind her uncle. She’d grown up with Ulfric and Frina being almost an extended part of their household. The royal couple was just a couple when they visited Riftvale. Her parents treated them the same way they treated anyone else, whether it was a Jarl or one of the beggars in the marketplace. But here, Ulfric was clearly the High King.
Harald and Roggi had gone through a door to the left, and Qara pushed through it to catch up to them. There was a stairwell, its steps worn and the stone ceiling overhead heavily patched, at the top of which was a bewildering maze of short corridors and small chambers.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this before,” Roggi said, glancing from side to side as they went.
“The stairwell on the other side, through Father’s map room, has always been there,” Harald told them, “but Mother discovered this entire wing that had been sealed up. She’s been working on it ever since, but I don’t think you’ve been here since she’s gotten it mostly done.” He sighed. “I don’t know who’s supposed to live in it, truthfully.”
They turned through a corridor that opened up into a large room full of trophy cases, mannequins decked out in expensive-looking armor, and weapon racks holding an impressive array of war axes, halberds, quarterstaffs and the like. A stately figure in an elaborate blue-green gown scurried into the room from one door and turned to leave by another.
“Frina?” Roggi called out.
The Queen turned to face them, a brilliant smile crossing her face.
“Roggi! And Harald and Qaralana as well. What a surprise!”
“You look beautiful, Frina,” Roggi said, smiling. “Briinda would have been proud.”
It was always hard for Qara to picture him having been married to the Queen’s sister, but everyone said it had been so; his wistful expression said so, as well. It was also a bit odd to see her dressed so formally. Most always, when Qara had been in her company, Frina had worn simple leather armor.
“Oh, this getup?” Frina laughed. “I’d rather be in my leathers, but since Ulfric wants me to act like a queen when he’s in court I may as well look like one. I don’t have any wars to fight or walls to knock down any longer, so I keep myself busy by decorating both the castle and myself.”
“And about that,” Roggi said, the tone of his voice clearly alerting Frina to the serious nature of what he was about to tell her. “We have some important issues to discuss with you and Ulfric. Dardeh wants me to stay here with the two of you until we’ve figured things out.”
Frina frowned, and glanced at Harald, who nodded. “It’s true, Mother. Both Qara and I have had some things happen that are, well…”
“Odd,” Qara said, earning nods from both Roggi and Harald.
“Very well,” Frina said with a question in her voice. “Let me show you where your room is. We set it up especially for you and Dardeh.”
“So I’ve heard,” Roggi said, following her down another of the maze of corridors. “Dar says he’ll join us after he gets some business taken care of.”
One of Frina’s eyebrows rose. “That by itself makes me concerned. Well, it’s this way. Follow me.”
They followed her from the trophy room into a large dining area with a lovely fire crackling away in the hearth. Beyond the table was a set of wide stone stairs with a statue of Ysgramor at their landing. Frina pointed that way.
“Up there is Ulfric’s room.” She smiled. “Well, ours, I guess, but I always think of it as Ulfric’s room. Your room is over here, Roggi,” Frina said, taking a right turn past the table, into another corridor. “Down there,” she said, pointing to a door at the end of the hall, “is a room with two single beds, in case you ever have need to house guards or other visitors.”
Roggi chuckled. “You’d think we were visiting royalty ourselves.”
“Aren’t you?”
Roggi frowned. “Well there are those who certainly think Dardeh is. That’s why I don’t like leaving him. He’s a target.”
“Only because nobody knows about Qara yet,” Harald said.
Qara was about to make a loud protest, but just then Frina reached another door and opened it. They stepped into a room that was nearly as large as Harald’s house or her own. In addition to the expected double bed, the space contained a large dining table, several wardrobes, an enchanting station, and display cases. In one corner, a mannequin in steel plate armor stood between three wall-mounted weapon racks on each side. Qara stepped toward the display, exclaiming in delight.
“Scimitars! Look at them, all different kinds!” Mama would love this and so would Uncle Dar.
Frina chuckled. “Yes. Ulfric insisted. They’re to honor the Dragonborn. Or, well…”
“The former Dragonborn,” Roggi said. “No alchemy station for me?”
Frina smiled. “I have a garden room set up on the other side of the dining room. The alchemy is there, near the plants. Or, I guess, where the plants will be. In fact, if you’re going to be here awhile perhaps you could help me choose what to grow. It’s one of the last things on the list.”
It was lovely, and definitely rivaled the old capital palace in Solitude. Qara couldn’t help wondering, though, how the province could support two such palaces. She glanced at Roggi and saw that in spite of how beautiful his quarters were, he wore a serious expression.
“Frina, are you going to be alright with me being here?”
The two of them stared at each other for what seemed nearly forever to Qara. Finally Frina sighed and nodded.
“You know he’s always been eager to have the two of you here, Roggi. He’s wanted you as his advisor for years.”
“Even though he and Dar don’t like each other much.”
Qara was surprised to see Frina reach out and touch Roggi’s arm for a moment. “I know it seems as though the past is always in the way. But you’re still my big brother. And I’m his wife.”
Roggi seemed startled for a moment, but then smiled. “Yes. Yes you are. And as his wife I hope you’ll get him up here. We need to talk. It’s really very important.”
Harald leaned over to whisper in Qara’s ear as Roggi and Frina left the room. “I don’t know what that’s all about, but we both need to make sure Father pays attention to us. So speak up. Yes?”
“I will make certain of it. If I could snap at the king on Falskaar I can do it here.”
“You did that?”
“Sure did. I probably should tell them about that, as well.”
Ulfric entered the dining area shortly after they did, and they gathered around the table. “So,” he said, “there must be something of note happening, for you to visit me with such a somber face, Roggi.”
“Several things, actually,” Roggi said. “Dardeh and I have had a couple of visits from Harald in the past few weeks, and… well, he should tell you about them. But it’s very important, Ulfric. That’s why I’m here.”
For the second time in as many days, Qaralana listened as Harald recounted the events that had culminated with their visit to the Nerevarine at the Shrine of Azura. Ulfric listened in silence, nodding from time to time, his ever-present frown growing deeper as the story lengthened.
“You did well to tell me of this,” he said at the end of Harald’s tale. “You should remain here until further notice.”
Harald’s mouth dropped. “No, I’m not going to stay here. I have things that need to be done!”
“Harald,” Frina said quietly, as Ulfric’s expression hardened. Qara, across the table from Ulfric, could see the anger building in his eyes even from where she sat. She had a nearly irresistible urge to reach for Harald’s hand, to calm him; but Roggi sat between them and she couldn’t do that.
Harald turned to face Frina. “I’m serious, Mother. I have things to take care of. I have a translation to retrieve from the Nerevarine, for one. I’d like to follow up on the Dwemer ruins in Markarth, for another. I was asked to find a missing research group in there, and then, well…”
“Events prevented it,” Roggi said calmly, cutting off mention of the incidents in Cidhna Mine. “Ulfric, I’m here for the foreseeable future because Dar thinks it’s important. I’ll keep an eye on the court; scare away anyone who might think it’s a good idea to approach you directly. You’re the target, not Harald. At least that’s my best guess. I haven’t had a chance to research it yet but I’ll get working on that right away.”
“And how do you propose to keep an eye on the Palace and Harald’s home at the same time, Roggi? Much less the Palace and all of Markarth, if he goes back there?” Ulfric was angry, to be certain, but Qara couldn’t help but be impressed by how he had absorbed the information and was now calmly pointing out the largest flaw in everyone’s thoughts and plans.
Roggi had nothing to say for a moment. He merely sat exchanging looks with Ulfric – it seemed as though an entire conversation was happening in them – and finally heaved a sigh.
“I hate to say it, but you have a point. Here’s my proposal, in that case. Harald should go meet with the Nerevarine, as he’d promised. Qara will go with him.”
“They are just children, Roggi,” Ulfric said.
Harald snorted, and inhaled as though he was ready to argue the point, but Roggi turned to him and held up one finger, to cut him off. He radiated an energy that allowed for no argument; Harald backed down instantly.
My gosh, it’s no wonder people are afraid of him, and I don’t even know what all being an inquisitor entails. I think I’m glad that I don’t.
Roggi stared at Harald for another long moment before turning back to Ulfric. “These children both have the Voice, Ulfric. You know yourself how big an advantage that gives them. Qaralana is Dragonborn. She seems to have nearly as much strength as Dardeh ever had. Not quite as much, but close – enough to slow or destroy pretty much any enemy. And as to Harald, well according to reports out of Markarth he should have no problem at all with anyone coming after him unless they catch both of them completely off-guard.”
He turned to face Harald again. “I say let them go get that translation. Then they will come back here. Dar is going to join us as soon as he takes care of some business. He’ll have yet another perspective on this and will be able to help us decide what to do next.”
Frina was nodding, but said nothing. Ulfric sat quietly for what felt like an eternity to Qara before clearing his throat.
“That is a reasonable course of action,” he said to Roggi, before turning to face Harald directly. “But you must return as soon as you’ve spoken to the Nerevarine, son.”
“Father…”
“No, Harald. Listen to me.” He paused, rubbing a hand over his brow as though he had a headache, before continuing. “It is likely true that I am the actual target of the assassination plots. The Writ for the Nerevarine was a convenient excuse for Hlaalu, and a foolish one. I have been targeted for years. Dardeh undoubtedly could verify that,” he added with a glance at Roggi, who nodded.
Really. Something else I didn’t know about. I’m not going to open my mouth to ask right now, though.
“But you are also a target. You are named for the first High King of the Nords, a direct descendant of Ysgramor himself. Harald was the man whose forces destroyed the last stronghold of the Dragon Cult at Forelhost, the leader who established Windhelm itself, and convener of the first Moot in Skyrim.”
“I know all that,” Harald muttered, somewhat petulantly to Qara’s ears.
“Then you also know that High King Harald’s son, Vrage, began a campaign of conquest that added Morrowind, a large portion of Cyrodiil, and most of High Rock to a Nord empire that lasted two hundred years and was in part responsible for the elves losing their primacy in Tamriel. The point, son,” he added, leaning forward and tapping on the table with one finger as though to underscore his meaning, “is that when I took part in what they now call the ‘Markarth Incident,’ I added to a legacy of hatred, deserved or not, that has existed in the Reach and High Rock since the First Era. People have wanted me dead for that for decades now. But because you carry the name of Windhelm’s founder, you are in particular danger in the west.”
He leaned back in his seat. “I have great confidence in your abilities, Harald. But evidence suggests that danger is growing and that you may carry more risk than most.”
Roggi nodded. “I agree. I’ve heard rumors and rumblings about things in the west. So far they’ve been so vague that it’s hard to put much stock in them but Harald’s recent experiences have me worried.”
Harald looked back and forth between the two older men and his mother. They each wore the expression that said “now that it’s decided…” to Qara’s eye. She hoped Harald would agree to their wishes.
We’re going to be absolutely fine going back to the Shrine of Azura. I’m sure of it. And I’m not really willing to risk the wrath of any of these people. We’ll figure something out after that. If I could go back and forth to Falskaar and survive, Harald can deal with a Dwemer ruin in Markarth.
I hope.
“All right,” Harald harrumphed. “We’ll go get the translation and then come back. But I’m not going to hide forever. I hope you know that.”
“We don’t want you to hide, dear,” Frina said quietly. “We just don’t want to lose you.”
Ulfric rubbed his forehead again. “Now that we have these matters settled, I am going to retire. I find myself weary of late. This is undoubtedly due to trying to keep up to my young and vigorous wife.” He gave her a wan smile and rose from his seat, making his way slowly around the end of the table and toward the stairs to his quarters.
Qara watched as Roggi shot a startled and concerned look at Frina. She shook her head and followed Ulfric up the steps.
Roggi said Ulfric looked tired, and so he does. I hope everything is going to be ok.