Remel kept her ears open over the next few days, listening for news of whatever deal it was that Maven wanted to make with the Reavers. But the rat way was conspicuously quiet, word of her and Rune's success the only big news.

One evening, just before Remel was headed to bed, Mercer stopped her at his desk. She paused nervously, wondering what he could possibly want.

"I have a job for you," he said in his scratchy voice, and beckoned her over to her desk, where papers rested haphazardly, covering the whole surface.

"That son a a skeever made a mistake," he said, gesturing to a piece of paper Remel thought was the promissory note from Honningbrew. "This name is an alias for an old contact of mine, Gulem-Ei. He skims off shipments from the East Empire Company and gives us a cut, in return for our support and protection." Mercer's dark eyebrows furrowed. "His tribute has dried up lately, more than it should have, despite the war, and clearly he's taking other work as a broker. I want you to go find him in Solitude, and find out who the buyer is. Oh," he added, glaring up at Remel. "And find out why he's been holding out on us."

Remel crossed her arms against a sudden chill. "All right," she said doubtfully, and the guildmaster looked up at her tone. "I just wonder, why me? Isn't there someone else for the job?"

Mercer stretched his arms over his head with a sigh, then brought them back down to rest on his hips. "You're a great thief," he snapped, and Remel blinked, surprised at such kind words delivered so rudely. "You can get the job done. Take a partner for backup and report to me as soon as you're back."

With that, he went back to his work, and Remel realized she'd been dismissed.

She made her way over to Rune's bunk in a daze. He was still bedridden; the wound on his head was healing poorly. The flesh surrounding it was a faint green color, and it oozed pus and blood, despite the bandages and poultices that Remel and Tonilia kept treating it with. Remel glanced at it with worry, and decided to enlist a mage to help him as soon as she got the payment from the new job.

"Did you hear any of that?" She said in a low voice, scooting him over and settling on the bed next to him.

"Nope," Rune grumbled. "Talk louder next time."

"It was mostly him doing the talking," she sighed. "I have to go to Solitude."

Rune straightened, wincing a bit at the pain. "When do we leave?"

Remel chuckled and pushed him back against his pillow, gently, careful not to disrupt his bandages. "You aren't going anywhere," she said sternly. "Not for another few weeks, if I have anything to say about it."

Rune pouted, but surprisingly dropped the argument. Remel fell silent and felt his forehead; he was burning up. "I'm going to make you some tea," she decided, and headed over to the kitchen area.

As the water heated, she poked her head into the training room, hearing the sounds of exertion. Vipir and Thrynn dueled, Thrynn with a sword, Vipir with a pair of wicked daggers. At first she thought they were evenly matched; Thrynn was clearly much stronger and more skilled, but Vipir was quick as a cat, weaving around and between his blows almost effortlessly.

But soon Thrynn managed to anticipate Vipir's moves, and swiped his blade out directly into Vipir's path. Vipir managed to block it, but the force of the blow made him stumble. Thrynn disarmed him in seconds and the fight was over.

Remel narrowed her eyes in thought.

"Come for some training, little elf?" Thrynn chuckled, and Remel blushed to be caught gaping.

"Actually," she blurted, to allay the awkwardness, "I had a favor to ask you."

"Me?" Thrynn said, pointing to himself, as though wondering what he could possibly do for her.

"Yes." She straightened and folded her hands behind her back. "Would you come with me to Solitude? The guildmaster gave me a job, but I'm to take a partner as backup. I know you are skilled..." she gestured to the site of their duel. "But if you don't want to, please tell me. I wouldn't want to pressure you into it."

Thrynn's craggy, scarred face broke into a radiant smile. "I'd be honored," he said formally. "I can be ready in moments."

"Oh, no," Remel said quickly. "I just now learned of the job. I'll need a few days to get ready."

Thrynn looked sheepish. "Right, of course."

The carriage Rune and Remel had ridden to Whiterun wasn't due to return for another few weeks, so they walked. Along the way, Thrynn taught Remel to hold her bow properly and had to begin to shoot at targets along the road—trees, bushes, oddly colored patches of dirt. It took some getting used to, and after just half an hour her arms were aching, but soon she could consistently hit her target, with varying amounts of force. It wasn't great, but it was a start. Thrynn said she was a natural.

As they moved further north, it grew cold. Remel was glad for her wolfskin cloak, which kept her warm and dry. Thrynn, a nord, wore only his iron armor and a light leather cape, and seemed perfectly happy.

They met no opposition on the road, which was a blessing. Their only company was a pack of wolves who ambushed them at one point, but Thrynn made quick work of them, as Remel knocked a single arrow and swung it between the wolves, trying to decide if she wanted to risk hitting her partner or not. She didn't. Luckily, he didn't need her help.

Finally they arrived in Solitude. Over the sea, with the mountain shielding it to the north, the city was quite temperate, a welcome change from the autumn cold fronts they'd come through. Tonilia had furnished her with plenty of gold, again, but when Remel entered the inn and asked the innkeeper for rooms, he named a price so high that she spluttered.

"For a single night?"

"Hey, I run an upstanding establishment," the innkeeper said grouchily. "Got to feed myself somehow. So many folks come in for one drink and stay all night, driving out the paying customers. So yeah, that's what I'm chargin'."

Remel sighed and was about to pay when she remembered the little farm and stables she'd spotted on the way in. She withdrew her coin purse with a glare. "I think I'll take my custom elsewhere," she said haughtily.

"There is no where else," the innkeeper called after her, but Remel ignored him and went back outside to where Thrynn was waiting, oblivious to the chill night wind.

"Price is too high," she said glumly, and Thrynn shrugged. "We can sleep outside the walls. I've done it before."

"My thoughts exactly," Remel agreed.

The woman who owned the farm agreed to let them stay for just a handful of gold and the promise of a story, even throwing in a bowl of soup and a hunk of fresh bread for each of them. Remel listened, eating her soup, while Thrynn told the tale of one of his many exploits as a bandit. He didn't phrase it that way, of course, making himself seem the good guy and his "enemies"—who Remel distinctly remembered as the city guard—as a group of wild forsworn. Despite the embellishments, Katla and her husband seemed to enjoy the story, and even offered them second scoops of soup