Jarl Kraldar offered to send for a mage, but it was too late. Kureeth had blood on him before they were sure that Angrenor was dead. Afterwards, he sat back against the stone and watched the body be carried up to the surface. He listened in silence as the Jarl and Astene concluded that the death was brought on by an old wound, aggravated by hard work. Astene volunteered to personally oversee the transport of Angrenor's body back to Windhelm.
"Your care for your workers does you credit," said the Jarl.
Perhaps to their own credit, none of those workers expressed a single disparaging noise. After the Jarl and Thonjolf were gone, and Astene headed to Windhelm on Markus' carriage, the miners headed north in a loose clump. Silence reigned over their steps. When they reached the town, Ursula once again peeled away and disappeared between some of the buildings. The rest, except Kureeth, headed for The Frozen Hearth.
Kureeth trod his own way to the College. With Astene out of town, he reasoned, now was perhaps the perfect opportunity to approach Jarl Kraldar with his suspicions regarding poison. Thonjolf, maybe, would hear Kureeth out, given he'd already revealed his knowledge of Kureeth's past experiences. But he wanted to talk everything over with Falin first.
The gate into the College opened for him without complaint—someone must have enchanted it to accept his coming. But he met J'zargo in the courtyard, the Khajiit mage wrapped in furs over his robes.
"This one must tell you your wife is not here," said J'zargo. "She is on an enchanting contract with Sergius." He paused. "She said to tell you not to do anything drastic."
"Thanks," said Kureeth. He was turning away when J'zargo said something else.
"If this one could offer his own advice," he said. Kureeth turned back. "This town holds to its tragedies. Too tight, this one thinks. If there is opportunity to light a fire, this one always thinks it should be lit."
Kureeth stood in the snow of the College courtyard and could not think of something to say. He didn't know how up to speed on the town's goings-on the mages were. Not as cut off as their reputation, perhaps. J'zargo made a gesture with his hands that Kureeth didn't understand.
"Something to think on," said the mage, turning towards the Hall of the Elements.
Kureeth trod back across the bridge and down to the town, wondering what Falin would say to all this new information. He stood in the road between the Jarl's longhouse and The Frozen Hearth. Perhaps a tankard of mead would help him make a decision.
Once inside the inn, he signalled to Dagur at the bar and took a seat alongside his fellow miners. Apart from them, there were few other patrons at that afternoon hour. Masa sat across from Relbray and Ingarth—Kureeth pulled himself in alongside the overseer and Dagur soon approached with the mead.
"You ever had anyone die under you before, Masa?" Relbray asked.
Masa took a drink before answering. "This hasn't always been my line of work," they said.
"Answer the question," said Ingarth. Kureeth wondered how much the three had managed to drink between them in the time he'd gone to the College and back.
"Yes," said Masa. He frowned at his tankard. "It never gets easier."
"Least you got no grieving relatives to deal with, right?" said Relbray. "Can't say as there's anybody back in Windhelm waiting for Angrenor."
The two dark elves looked at each other across the bench. To Kureeth's surprise, the contradiction came from Ingarth.
"Now that ain't fair," the Nord said. He finished his drink and waved for another. "Angrenor was a good man, even if he was broken. Fought for what he believed in."
"What's that?" asked Relbray. "Freedom to be an arsehole to anyone who ain't a Nord? Freedom to leave the Dunmer languishing in the shittiest part of Windhelm so he could have someone to act superior to?"
"Just because you won the war," said Ingarth, "doesn't mean you need to get all cocky."
"Just because I hate the Stormcloaks, doesn't make me an Imperial," said Relbray.
Kureeth prepared himself to rise, to duck over the table and separate the two. Dagur, however, had anticipated him. The bartender loomed behind Relbray and Ingarth.
"If you two are going to argue about the war," he said, "I'm gonna have to ask that you take it outside."
"Maybe we will," said Ingarth, not taking his eyes off Relbray. He slowly rose from the bench as the dark elf did the same. Kureeth watched them both, then rose himself. Ingarth walked backwards towards the door and opened it to let in the cold. Then he walked backward through it onto the porch and finally turned to take the few steps down into the snow. Relbray soon positioned himself at the top of the porch steps. Kureeth was in the doorway but stepped forward as Dagur moved to close the door.
"Might want to keep an eye on them," he said before it closed fully. Masa had not moved from their seat through the entire display—a ridiculous one, Kureeth thought. He hadn't been in Skyrim while the war was on, but to cling to its conflicts in this way . . . it struck him that J'zargo might be onto something.
Ingarth moved back into the street until Relbray had enough room to descend the steps. The pair circled slowly. Kureeth watched from the porch. There was a single guard in front of the Jarl's longhouse, but they did not seem inclined to interfere.
Relbray moved first. Ingarth simply waited for the blow to land and launched his own. Relbray staggered back in the snow. Kureeth, cursing his own hesitation, waded off the porch. With one arm he thrust Relbray on his back in the snow, with the other he grasped Ingarth by the collar. He moved his gaze quickly from one to the other.
"Alright, alright," said Relbray, getting to his feet. He dusted snow off himself and mumbled something about seeing Malur. He headed towards the Jarl's longhouse and, after speaking low to the guard, entered without knocking. Only after the door was closed did Kureeth let go of Ingarth's collar.
Ingarth walked a few paces until he could look at the half-finished building just north of The Frozen Hearth—the prospective forge.
"Still keeping an eye on me?" asked Ingarth. Kureeth grunted. Ingarth continued staring at the forge. Kureeth wondered if a half-drunk Ingarth was the best person to broach this topic with, but he was running short of options.
"You notice Angrenor acting weird lately?" he asked.
Ingarth laughed. "I'm not stupid, Kureeth. He's been weird even since that argument with the boss and you brought that mage out." He seemed to know that Kureeth was waiting for him to say more. He grinned and said, "You reckon the boss's sickness and Angrenor's got something to do with each other."
Kureeth gave a single slow nod. Ingarth's grin held wide.
"What's your angle?" asked Ingarth. "For all I know you poisoned them yourself—though why anybody would bother poisoning Angrenor is beyond me."
For Kureeth, this attitude didn't quite gel with Ingarth's previous defence of their recently deceased colleague. He was about to ask about this when there was a flash of light to the west, over the hills towards Saarthal. He turned quickly and saw a jagged bolt of lightning leave the ground and shoot upwards into the grey clouds. In a heartbeat, it was over, leaving only an echo on Kureeth's eyelids when he blinked.
Kureeth was running towards the source as soon as he could think to do so. He overtook the Winterhold guard and, on the steep westward path leading behind the town, Ursula.
"So I'm not imagining things," she puffed as Kureeth stormed past her.
But when he reached the crest, the place where he should have been able to see who or what was responsible, there was nothing visible on the downward slope but a melted patch of snow. The footprints, however, told a different story. He deliberately trod over as many of them as he could on his way to the patch. Ursula frowned at him.
Breathing more heavily, the Winterhold guard joined them, and at last Ingarth.
"Did you see anything?" asked the guard.
Kureeth looked dead at Ursula and said, "No."
The guard stood for a moment, catching their breath, then started to head back over to the town. Ingarth joined them, muttering something about mage towns.
"Why?" asked Ursula, when they were gone.
Kureeth wasn't sure he knew the answer to that. He looked at the burn mark stretching up Ursula's sleeve that he was sure hadn't been there before.
"Seems like the worst place to hide," he said.
"I . . . I wasn't sure," said Ursula. "Thought it'd be easier to blend in. And I need the work."
Kureeth nodded. He didn't think she was cruel enough to try and murder Astene or Angrenor. That meant her secrets were none of his concern. If she wanted to try and pass unnoticed as a mage in a town full of them, then, Kureeth thought, she was welcome to try.