Chapter 10:
Siris almost gave up on his mission and went back to Dila, but he couldn`t do it. He hadn`t accepted to be the messenger just to go to Windhelm. He had something else he needed to do.
That was why, as soon as he lost Whiterun, he took his sword from his back.
"You finaly decided to wield this blade, mortal? Or are you going to bury it, right here and now?"
- The thought had crossed my mind…
"Hahaha!" Mephala said. "Go ahead, do it! I can just forge another one."
Siris knew that she was telling the truth. But he didn`t want to do it. He knew that by doing that, he would have Mephala against him. And nobody wanted to have an angry Daedric Princess at your heels.
"By your silence, I presume that you have accepted this blade. But it has been out of sight for so many years…"she continued."It needs to taste the blood of a trusted one. Why don`t you go back to Whiterun and do us both a favor. We both know that you don`t love Dila…"
- Shut it! – he said, angry.
"Negating it doesn`t make it a lie…"
- I SAID SHUT IT! – he screamed, throwing the sword away.
He looked at the sword. It seemed harmless again. He picked it.
"I guess trying to reason with it is a waste of time. I`ll just have to block it." he thought, before bringing his hand to his face. "Look at me, arguing with a sword…"
He sighed, and continued to walk forward. He had a long walk in front of him. He wanted to get it done quickly, so he could get back to his lovers soft arms…
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She wanted him back.
In the morning, when she woke up, she rolled to the side on her bed, expecting to find herself within his arms, laughing at the horrible dream she`d had. But she almost fell out of the bed, not encountering anything to stop her movement.
"Guess I wasn`t dreaming…" she thought, sadly. She slowly got out of the bed and dressed herself. Her training was going to start today. She needed to be ready.
When she was finished, she exited the inn and strode up to the place the Jarl had shown her. The wooden building was named Jorvaskrr. It had been the lair of the Companions for many ages, if what Balgruuf had told her was to be believed.
As she entered, she found many people eating in a large, square table. All gazes shifted to her. Soon the room was silent, save for a few whispers among the group. A large, fair bearded man stood up. He had a very big axe in his back and was wearing steel armor.
- Balgruuf said he would be sending someone new today. I just didn`t thought she would be so… so… - he tried, scratching his head.
- Feline. – another man said, with both hands on front of his mouth.
- That`s it, brother, thanks.
- What my brother here is trying to say… – the other man said, standing up. – Is that we were expecting you. I am Vilkas. Come with me. Kodlak is downstairs.
He started walking toward a small stair, and Dila quickly followed, but not before noticing a few stares from the male warriors. She entered the small door that Vilkas was holding open for her. As they walked through the underground halls, Vilkas began to talk to her.
- So, you are a friend of Siris, am I correct? – he asked.
"By Akatosh, does that man know everybody in this hold?"
- Yes, you could say that. – she answered, vaguely.
Vilkas seemed satisfied with the answer. The rest of their walk to the end of the corridor was a silent one. They arrived at a door that didn`t seem to be any different from those they had been passing through the hall. Vilkas cautiously opened it, and they both entered.
An old man was sitting by a desk, drinking something from his tankard and nibbling some bread. Dila took a quick look around the room, and found many interesting things. Another map, a few books a display case with a golden dagger inside and…
"Is that a heart?"
- Kodlak. – Vilkas said. The old man turned to face them. He had two white eyes, and both his beard and his long hair were grey. – The woman the Jarl mentioned is here.
- Ah. Dila, isn`t it? – the old warrior said, standing up. – The Jarl speaks highly of you. I am Kodlak Whitemane, Harbinger of the Companions. Sit down, please.
Dila obeyed, and sat down by a chair next to Kodlak`s own. Vilkas leaned against a wall, arms crossed.
- Tell me, Dila. What do you know about battle?
- I… I don`t understand the question.
- Let me rephrase that. What is your favorite weapon?
- The bow.
Kodlak found that answer amusing, though Dila couldn`t see why.
- Of course, the bow. – he said, chuckling. – A difficult weapon to wield, elegant in design. But, tell me, if you run out of arrows, what are you going to do?
Dila thought the question over. Was that some kind of test?
- I sheath it and continue on my way. I have never missed a target.
- But what if you do?
The phrase made Dila remember the Spriggan trap, a few days ago. She had been powerless and she would have died if Siris hadn`t been there.
- I have my daggers to keep myself safe. – she said, unsheathing them. She put them in the table, and Kodlak took one of them in his hand. His tired eyes analyzed every inch of the Orcish knives, scrutinizing every curve on the green blades. He put it back on the table, smiling.
- Yes, you have those daggers. But do you know how to wield them?
- I think so…
- Then attack me.
Dila hesitated. Then she took one of her daggers and slashed at his face. The old man simply grabbed her hand without any effort. She picked the other one and tried lunging for his chest. He held her left hand as well. She was left without options. Kodlak twisted her wrists, and she released the daggers.
- You would be dead, right now.
She silently picked her daggers up, and absent-mindedly sheathed them.
- Vilkas, get the girl a sword. Judging by the arms, try a short one.
Vilkas nodded and went out of the room. Kodlak turned to her again and continued talking.
- Listen, in here, there is no Legion or Stormcloack. We have all agreed to plead our allegiance to one thing only: The Companions. But we do have a few racist people among us. Do expect a few bad eyes thrown in your direction.
- I have grown accustomed to that. – she lied, remembering what Siris had told her.
Kodlak merely noded and signaled at the door. Dila took the hint and left the room, leaving the man to his machinations. She walked halfway through the hall before being stopped by Vilkas again. This time, he was holding two swords, one shorter than the other. He tossed the small one to Dila.
- Let`s see how you fare with the sword. Follow me.
They went up the stairs, through the main hall and exited to a small circular training ground. Vilkas picked a shield up and readied himself.
- Hit me with all you got. I can take a few blows.
Dila eyed him silently. Then she took hold of the sword and pointed it at him.
She lunged forward fast, trying to balance the word in her hand. Vilkas parried the blow and sidestepped another clumsy swing. He chuckled at her attempt to keep her balance straight. She slowly wobbled back into a position she had seen Siris use once, keeping her sword arm behind her and an open palm in front of her.
- Copying him won`t work.
She tried to spin like Siris did, landing a hard blow on Vikas shield, but falling in the sand in the process. Vikas let out an unamused laugh, before saying something that let Dila boiling with rage:
- I thought that the cats could fight better. I guess they are only good at sneaking and drinking Skooma, then…
She got up and immediately swung at him, catching him off guard. He stumbled as the sword caught his shield with full force, before repositioning it in front of himself. Dila stabbed at the center of the shield, pushing him back. For a moment, Dila thought she was winning…
Right up until he withdrew the shield and his body from the sword`s way, letting Dila harmlessly fly by his side, before grabbing her extended arm and putting her in a painful arm lock. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound left her mouth.
- A tip from a friend: don`t get emotional in a fight. – he said, releasing her.
She readied her position again, but this time Vilkas went on the offensive. He bashed his shield against her sword, sending it flying. He hit her again, sending her rolling to the ground. He could hear the muffled voices of Vilkas and another woman:
- So, what do you think of her, Vilkas?
- Strong arms. She seems to have some spirit in her, Aela. Might be worth training. Doesn't know how to fight, though
- If she did… – the woman said, getting closer to her. Through her blackened vision, Dila could see that she had fiery red hair. – Siris wouldn`t have sent her.
Dila couldn`t remember anything else. All that followed was blackness…
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Siris had been walking for a day now. He was beginning to feel tired. He had covered a good part of the way to Windhelm, and the shift in temperature showed it. That cloak that Balgruuf had given him was worth it. The forest was home to many dangerous beasts, and he didn`t need to have icy scales slowing him down.
He was looking for a good place to set up camp. Even though he hated to admit it, he needed to stop soon, or else he wouldn`t be walking through the gates of Windhelm; he would be crawling through them.
"And the last thing I need is a bunch of Nords carrying me to the Jarl like some drunkard."
He had been looking for a god place for two hours now, and he had hoped that a traveler, like him, would have had set up camp nearby. He knew his luck, though.
"Heh. I shouldn`t complain of it. If it hadn`t been pure luck, I wouldn`t have met Dila in the middle of that storm."
He laughed at the thought. He remembered that he had been complaining to himself about leaving Riften in the middle of a storm. The next moment, he was helping the Khajiit that would become his lover bury her friends.
He stopped as he heard something. He checked his surroundings. The only thing he could see were the trees rising well above his head. Which always meant something was wrong. He slowly drew his sword.
- Who is there? – he said, not hoping for an answer.
Silence followed. Siris assumed a battle position, slowly starting to turn around. He heard a twig crack. Sloppy work
"Amateurs."
- Look, why don`t you come out. I promise I won`t kill you all. – he said. Promptly, a few whispers sounded in the woods. – I see I few of you actually have brains.
The whispers grew louder. Siris felt the urge to laugh, but he held it back. He knew that one false movement and he would be dead. He needed to keep himself calm and make the assailants nervous. He could take them in seconds if they attacked at once, but, not knowing where they were, he could be shot in the back. And he did not like being shot in the back.
- I surrender! – Siris turned to the direction in which the voice came. A lonely assassin was walking out of the trees, arms pointing upward. Siris grinned. He didn`t thought it would have been this easy. – I surrender! Please, don`t kill me…
- Lay on the ground, Altmer. I`ll deal with you later.
The Altmer threw his weapons on the ground. As he began to crouch, an arrow found it`s way to the Elf`s head, and he fell with a splash of red to the ground. Siris heard another arrow coming from behind him. He spun and swung his sword in a defensive ark, hitting the arrow and sending it to the side. Another assassin jumped from behind the bushes and charged at Siris, brandishing a shield and a sword. Siris quickly moved to intercept him. His blade swung, and the bandit tried to block.
Bad Move.
The Ebony Blade cut right through the weak wooden shield like it had been made of butter, still having enough momentum to bisect the man. Siris was impressed. He himself had never thought he would live to see the day he would have been able to cut a man cleanly in half. He only had gotten as far as disemboweling them.
He turned around, and, as he did, an arrow was shot at his thigh. He gritted his teeth in pain, eyes now bloodshot, looking for the shooter. Another bandit came charging at him. He parried a blow and brought his own blade to Siris`s chest. Siris jumped back, the blade grazing his chest. He spun back and slashed the bandit across the chest. As he did, some kind of red mist covered the blade. The wound on his thigh closed. Siris laughed. Balgruuf had mentioned something like this, but he had thought it was some kind of legend.
He spun, still looking for the archer. He could hear nothing now. The shooter had probably escaped while he was dispatching his friends. He slung the Ebony Blade back on it`s scabbard and crouched near the Altmer. He checked his pockets and finally found a letter, which read:
" I have news that the infamous Shadowscale Siris is coming to our city. Your orders are to ambush and kill him. I trust you know that he is an incredibly dangerous individual, and thus will not be taken down easily. Wait until he is tired.
If you bring me his head, there is a bonus waiting for you here, in Windhelm.
Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, High King of Skyrim."
- Bastard. – Siris cursed.
He stood up and restarted walking, thinking about the ambush.
"If he knew I was coming, then he must have an inside source." He though, stopping dead on his tracks. "Dila is in danger!"
He turned around and thought about running back to Whiterun. But he knew that if he did return to Whiterun, he would be ambushed again, and would endanger Dila`s life even more. He reluctantly began walking in the direction of Windhelm. He had to get there as soon as possible. For Dila`s sake, he needed to…
What he failed to notice was the other figure laying low on the bushes, watching him with a pair of stone silver eyes. As Siris walked away, the figure quickly stood up and moved away, toward a horse, and quickly made it`s way to the capital of Eastmarch with a smile on it`s face.
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Dila woke up, not wanting to stand up at all. Her body had been bruised badly from the two days of uninterrupted training and, although potions did help, they never could cure her completely.
She clumsily stepped out of her bed and put on her armor, which was looking worse than ever. She went down the stairs of the inn and stumbled her way to Jorvaskrr. Vilkas was waiting for her on the door. They went to the training area again.
Vilkas handed her a sword. She grabbed it from his hand and set up the basic sword position. Vilkas held out a sword for himself. They slowly started to circle each other.
- Good morning, Dila. – he finally said. – Ready to spar?
- Tell me yourself. I am getting the hang of this.
With these words, she attacked. Vilkas jumped to the side, and she quickly followed through with a stab. Vilkas parried it and went on attack her. She deflected a strong swing and attacked his hand, which he quickly withdrew. Vilkas pushed her with one hand. She stumbled back, but managed to get herself back into position. She held ot he sword. Vilkas had an impressed face on.
- I am surprised, Dila. You have made stark progress in these two days. Perhaps now you can defend yourself. Come at me again.
No sooner said than done. As the words left his mouth, she gave him an overhead strike that he was forced to block. She took advantage of that moment to quickly hit him with a punch. He groaned and fell to his kness, gasping for air.
- I yield! – he said, between bouts of breath, extending his hand.
Dila was breathing heavily. She had finally defeated Vilkas, one of the Companions best fighters, in single combat. She heard slow clapping come from the small balcony of the main building. She turned round to see Kodlak and Vilkas`s brother, Farkas, sitting down and laughing.
- So, Vilkas, you have been defeated by the girl, huh? – Kodlak said. Dila turned to Vilkas and offered a hand. He shrugged it off, still coughing, and brought himself up by himself.
Dila found his manners quite rude. She had defeated him, yes, but he didn`t need to treat her like that. She turned back to Kodlak. He stood up and said:
- Congratulations, Dila. We have nothing else to teach you. The rest of the sword fighting techniques can be learned either through experience… or through a much better teacher than all of us…
"Siris."
- Thank you, master. I will put these skills to good use. – she said, bowing. Then she took her leave.
She felt pride flood her veins. She had finally sharpened her swordsmanship skills. She would no longer have to depend on other. Siris would be relieved.
The thought of him made her worry. Siris said he would have been back in four days. Even though only three days had passed, she was worried about him. What if someone had poisoned him, or he got caught by bandits?
Dila didn`t notice she was being shadowed through her walks on the city. A lonely figure jumped across the yellow rooftops of the city, tailing her. Her orders had been to observe the Khajiit, learn what she was doing. She was getting impatient. She had had enough chances to kill Dila that, had they been used, would have slain an entire army. But she had been told to wait. And so she did…
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Siris walked across the rocky bridge. A few guards stopped to give him a sideway glance, wondering about what an Argonian was doing in their city.
Siris hated Windhelm with a passion. From the stone walls to the houses to the docks… especially those docks.
As he stepped through the wooden doors, he saw a Dunmer being harassed by a few Nords, which was a typical sight in that region of Skyrim.
- Why don`t we pay you a visit later? We have ways of making traitors talk… - he heard one of the Nords say. – And you don`t want to see them
- Leave the lady alone. – Siris said. The Nords turned toward him. – Now.
The Nord laughed at the statement. Then he got closer.
- And who are you, Argonian, to enter our town and tell us what to do?
- I am the one that is going to break your arm if you don`t do what I am saying.
The Nord tried to punch him. Siris dodged, grabbed his hadn and threw him on the ground. He pushed the Nord`s elbow until it snapped. The Nord screamed as Siris released it and it fell on the ground. Siris simply saw the other thugs scramble around, running through the alleys of the city.
- Are you okay? – he asked the Dunmer, who had watched the whole scene. – They didn`t hurt you, did they?
- No, I`m fine. Thank you, Argonian…
- My pleasure.
He turned around from the woman and continued to walk in the direction of the Jarl`s home, the Palace of Kings.
"This is going to be hard." He said, taking a deep breath and pushing the mighty doors open…