And another chapter…

-x-

"Which tapestries do you want to see?" Elaine asked.

Harald didn't know, "Which ones have you made?"

Elaine launched into a list, "The taking of Dragonstar, the Fourth Orc War, the Black Drake, I can never remember that one's name-"

"Do you mean the Reachman?" Harald asked, for he'd read a story where King Emeric had fought an army led by one called thus.

"Yes, do you know the story?"

"Yes but I can't remember his name either." Harald said. The Black Drake had been the father of the Longhouse Emperors, a dynasty of Reachmen eventually displaced by Varus the Brave, who'd begged Akatosh to crown him Emperor.

Elaine hummed, "Oh well." She said with a shrug that sent his cape dancing again, "Mother said you know about our name, do you want to see that? We finished that panel a few months ago."

"I know about Elysana." Harald said, "Lady Elyna told it to me just now."

"No not that one, we had to get a special thread from Skyrim for that. I meant the Harper."

The girl led him onward into the house. The walls were richly decorated, with many tapestries of hunting and sailing scenes. These ones were rather crude though, and in several places Harald saw that once bright colours had faded and other had frankly bizarre additions. In one case there appeared to be a man wielding a sword with a handle at each end. Unless that was some strange foreign weapon Harald was inclined to think it a mistake of the weaver, which seemed unlikely with the obvious care with which Lady Elyna had spoken of her own weaving.

They came to a stairway, spiralling up, but the walls up there were bare stone. Elaine led Harald along further and they came to a room. Inside the walls were still bare, but now Harald saw several racks of smaller tapestries, these ones only a foot across each. There must have been dozens of them.

"Look, here's Silverhands. And me and Mother."

Harald looked, and indeed there were two smaller figures weaving next to a figure with silver hands. All three of them wore green dresses and red cloaks. "Lady Elyna said there wasn't anyone left to remember the stories." Harald said softly, leaning in to look closer.

"And?" Elain sneered a little unkindly, "Mother said we should be in it. We're her daughters." She ruffled through the panels. Harald saw a dozen beautifully rendered scenes, with battles and heroes slaying monsters, as well as many finely dressed people and an army in golden panoply.

"Here it is." Said Elaine eventually, holding some of the panels up to reveal one underneath. "Mother made it before I was born, but the Harper was the first of our line anyway."

The panel showed a noble woman, again attired in green and with a red cloak. She sat on a rock beside a stream and had many animals gathered about her. Several men dressed in armour knelt before her.

"The knights of the High Rock were riding one day when they heard music through the woods." Elaine explained, "They came upon a woman, and her song was so beautiful that the whole wood stopped to hear it and all the animals came to listen. The knights were so amazed they brought the Harper back to their masters the Direnni and the king gave the woman his cloak so everyone would know she was the noblest lady in the land."

"And you keep this tradition?" asked Harald, looking across at Elaine, her own cloak as red as her mothers.

"Of course, how else would we remember her?"

Harald looked again. "The weaving is very beautiful." He said simply. Elaine started babbling, thanking him for the compliment but Harald wasn't really listening, losing himself in thoughts of history. He'd recognised a few of the scenes from the tapestries from Master Vinothren's stories and teaching, but these ones were so much more alive. Instead of blocks for armies and stones for castles here was the history of High Rock in shining thread and colour. Instead of battles these were the scenes of art and beauty.

Harald looked over at the girl, her eyes bright even in the darkened room "Why do they call you Elegant then?"

"Oh well when the Direnni king saw the Harper he started shouting about how elegant she was." Elaine shrugged, "Mother tells it better but that's how it went."

Without thinking, Harald remembered something. "What an elegant craft, to be rigged fore and aft."

Elaine looked at him. "What's that?"

Harald smiled, "A song I heard from sailors on the waterfront. Master Vinothren told me it was about a new sort of ship that was made, a very fast a powerful one. They came up with a new way of building it to have two large masts instead of only one, at first the shipwright says its elegant, then the captains he hunts fear him and call it a fearsome craft."

Elain brightened, "Do you like music?"

Harald knew he liked to listen to the singing by the dockworkers. He'd even learnt the calls of the Argonians who would whistle to each other to talk, he'd never considered it music but he supposed it was. He nodded and Elaine grinned.

"I've been learning as well, come on, I'll show you." And she stood and went to the door, but before she could open it they heard footsteps and voices on the other side.

The children looked at each other, then slowly pressed their ears against the door.

"…I spoke to him yesterday, did you…" said a voice, but it was swiftly covered by an answer Harald couldn't hear. He did hear the sound of hobnails on the wooden floor though. That was odd. Almost all the city was paved so nailed boots were uncomfortable to walk in. It must have been one of the foreigners who'd come to the meeting. He said as much to Elaine.

"It must be that Nord." She replied turning her nose up, "Looked like a bear."

Harald knew she probably meant one of the Varengir, the men out of Northpoint. Lennart, one of Master Vinothren's captains was one of them. Whoever was wearing the boots had probably been traveling down from that city. Harald took hold of the door, "Let's follow them." He suggested, peeking around the corner to see several people turning into a doorway down the corridor.

Harald led the way, stepping lightly after them, pulling Elaine along behind him.

"They're going to the balcony!" Elaine whispered as they neared the door, "Come on, we can go to the music room, we'll be able to see them from there." And now she was leading him, heading back down the corridor to the stairs and they went up again, quickly reaching the top and going down another corridor, this one again with blank walls. Elaine pushed at a door but it barely budged. "It's stuck again." She said, straining at it, "Help me!"

Harald set his shoulder against it, pushing even though there was a nail standing proud of the door that pressed into his shoulder. With a grunt he pushed again and this time the door opened.

They found themselves in a dark room, this one though had glass windows and Elain went swiftly around opening the shutters. Moonlight streamed in and Harald saw many musical instruments of all sorts, with flutes, lyres and harps of a variety of shapes as well as a small bookshelf with a number of scrolls on it. Elaine was awkwardly dragging a case over to one of the windows, and Harald guessed it was to stand on. He went to the girl's side and together they manoeuvred it into place. They climbed on top and Harald saw that as Elaine had said, the men they'd seen going down the corridor were sitting about in a small garden. There were several fences with what looked like flowers or vines growing through them and in the dark their leaves looked silver.

"What're they talking about?" he murmured over to Elaine.

She shushed him, concentrating on the men below.

Harald followed her gaze. Many of those there were leaning on the posts of the garden, and a few were sitting on benches. He saw Lord Pellas there, as well as a large man who did indeed look like a bear. That must be the Nord. Master Vinothren was also there, stooped in conference with one older man who either was listening intently or asleep.

Words reached them. Harald saw a tall man, standing in the centre of the terrace, and though the speaker was standing as to face away from their vantage point, his gestures conveyed as much of his speech as the words themselves: "Is it not so my brothers? Let not the sharp-toothed and viperous calumny of the Bretons and their untrue representations to any degree excite the mind of the King against us and the defenders of our rights, which Sainted Steldal may forbid!"

A noise of general agreement came from the crowd, with many striking fist against palm.

"For our defence we have poured into the royal ear with mighty outcry by means of letters, petitions and a true account of our origin and our form of common governance, if governance it can be called, for do we not marshal ourselves like the clan-hosts of our long fathers? We have spoken of the cruel wrongs that have been wrought on us and our forefathers by some kings of this city, but more so their evil ministers! Yet we cannot now be sure that we may receive the inheritance we have always enjoyed! For so long we have trusted in the power of kings and stoutly defended against tyrants and the heresy of the crowd, but where now is the commonwealth we were promised?"

Pellas had leant toward his neighbour through the tall man's speech and he now stood to answer the words. "Ermengal you speak as ever like the dragon, with fire burning your tongue!"

The men around them laughed, and the tall men, Ermengal, who'd turned to reply to Pellas smiled a little and bowed sardonically, retreating to the crowd.

"Brothers!" Pellas called, "Though I would have not said as much as my friend, I cannot say otherwise. Can we see these latest outrages as anything other than prejudice and deprivation? Is this merely poor fortune? Will any of you say that our people have displeased the gods in some fashion? For my part I have done all I can to honour the Nine, and I do not doubt the same for any man here! To what door shall we turn to revenge our misfortunes? How shall our liberty be defended? We took this land with blood and iron! Let us defend it with the same strength! The Bretons claim their lords were all set up by the Nine. How can that be so when hundreds of years have passed since the Miracle? They'd certainly fell easily enough against the Demonmarch! Such is their arrogance to lord it over us and so great is our due and natural desire to throw off the unbearable yoke of their scorn that all sincere good will between them and us in this life has been burned away. When we take to the sea but find no harbour upon our return, where then can we turn? Can we be held disloyal if we do nothing unlawful while our enemies close in about us, ever striking us with their unjust and wicked spurs? Even the justest of Judges would smile and condign vengeance upon them for their tyrannous oppression and other most wicked deeds; and this with a firm faith we believe will soon come to pass!"

The men struck their palms against their thighs and pounded the wooden posts of the garden. Silver leaves shimmered as a wave of indignation passed through them.

Pellas continued full solemnly: "I might say that I would have things as they were in all the years of my life, and the days of my longfather's before me. To be a lord of peace and war, to pass on my sword to a worthy son, and to see my people thrive. Yet can we not dream? I would have all these things, but so too I would grasp greatness! Let things be as they were in the finest days of the city! Let the knights of Wayrest ride out once again over sea and land! Let our ships fill the Illiac, and return home with holds a 'bursting!" He paused, looking over to Master Vinothren, "Come now Master Elf, I have no leaning on historical matters, tell us how we may achieve all these things! The will is on us, but even the best navigator must have stars to steer by."

Master Vinothren looked rather uncomfortable to Harald. The elf was sitting with his head back, and had adopted that pose he would whenever he was deep in contemplation. He stayed like that for a few seconds after Pellas had stopped speaking, then slowly came forward. "Lord Admiral," he said slowly, "What do you mean by calling me thus?"

"Merely that you an elf." Pellas said, clearly confused, he glanced to either side, finding indeed that what he'd said had not aroused any note of confusion with anyone else.

"But why is that important?"

Pellas frowned, "It is a little thing, please, I pray you take no offence, but continue and say whatever you may say."

Harald knew Master Vinothren well enough that he knew the elf was only playing at offence. Indeed, his master had always maintained a dignified composure, and there were only a few times Harald had ever seen him visibly upset, sometimes when returning home after a day of business.

The elf continued, drawing a hand to the side of his head and brushing his hair back to touch one pointed ear. "Truly, I am an Dunmer. I may tell you then that the secret to history is merely to take a longer view. Because of my race, I am in constant contemplation of history."

Master Vinothren stood, stepping forward a little, "By occupation rather than by nature I conduct my mercantile endeavours, I buy and sell, I lend or borrow. By nature, I am a scholar. As a scholar and Mer both, I may examine further and more history than most. You have spoken of greatness Pellas, what then is greatness? You speak of armies and fleets, yet who would not have this so? Lord Ermengal, would you not have these things? Petrus? Radimund? Have you the will that these things be so?"

The men Master Vinothren addressed all made noises of assent.

"I tell you this is mere subsistence." Continued Master Vinothren, "If you seek greatness you cannot succumb to passivity. Consider those great princes that ruled this city in past years. They were all great, yet for different reasons. Ruffe diverted rivers and broke down mountains to make his roads, in Emeric's day the Daggerfall Covenant spanned almost half of Tamriel, and the whole of the Illiac was merely the lion's lake. Even Arnau the Monk was great, in his own way, for at his court the rulers of Tamriel gathered to hear his wisdom and fought for the right to employ his students. Learn well their histories and know therefore what the true nature of greatness may be. You seek influence, wealth, power. Is there any person that doesn't? Instead consider what specifically you desire."

Harald had heard these words before, as often when Master Vinothren had played at war with him the elf had always said the key to battle was strategy. An enemy was to be defeated, that was the definition of the term, but the method of that defeat comprised the objectives of combat.

"Do I agree that we as merchants have been unjustly treated? That the King's actions have led to little good and a general decrease in law, prosperity, and the common welfare of the city and the kingdom overall? Certainly. Do I agree that these policies of aggrandisement toward the provincial nobility is fatal to the kingdom's defence? I do. Is Wayrest declining now, are her armies weaker now than those of Daggerfall, and her navies smaller than those of Sentinel? They are slowly becoming so, despite the valiant efforts of our host. Do I know some direct strategy that may reverse these misfortunes? I do not, but I perhaps know where to start."