A/N: Firstly, anyone who is a new reader in the last week may have come across my mistake where I accidentally replaced Ch 42 with the content of Ch 41. That is now fixed! I figured I'd manage to do that someday. If ya'll see me do something like that again, call me out! ;)


Any day now. Teldryn held in his sigh, if only to delay another intake of breath as he continued waiting in the crevice near the place that the sentries had been using for their privy. They'd come upon the first group, two men and a woman, in a clearing near an overlook of the mine. It had been fortunate that one of his soldier's arrows had glanced off the woman's armor instead of burying in her neck like the other two, otherwise she would not have given away their second alarm as she scrambled to smother the fire. A horn was their first, as expected, and ending the long trail of smoke that drifted high up into the frigid air was the backup- at least during the day. Teldryn didn't particularly enjoy immobilizing a person with lightning until he could get within striking range but she had needed to be stopped.

He had been surprised to find that the sentries were nords, and part of a well-organized band of mercenaries judging by the matching sigil of a hawk emblazoned on their steel and leather armor. A peek down at the camp had revealed the East Empire Company had certainly paid for plenty of protection.

Currently, as the veil of dusk unfurled across the horizon behind Northshore, Teldryn and the two guards who had landed their shots were waiting for the right moment to enact their execution of the second group of sentries stationed above the dock. He figured their backup alarm for the nighttime would be some kind of light or flaming projectile, so they'd need to be quick and clean, giving no chances for a demonstration. Meanwhile, the other two guards were keeping that campfire churning back at the first site. And looking after the walking, grumbling cocoon that Fethis had turned himself into.

Finally, finally, he heard the creaking of snow under boots coming nearer.

The man was humming to himself in a low tune that probably sounded like Ragnar the Red to his own ears and Teldryn slid his dagger from its sheath, pushing all other thoughts from his mind as he exhaled silently, waiting. The sound of water splashing against the rocks was his cue and he advanced from his hiding place and grasped the back of the man's hair, cutting off a yelp of surprise with a deep slash across his neck. Teldryn held him there as he convulsed, listening through the choked gurgling and resulting splatter. From the darkness, two whispers, followed by strangled croaks and panicked shuffling. Once all went still, Teldryn dropped the dead man into the filth and turned toward the clearing to inspect the scene. Both sentries were motionless silhouettes on the ground next to their campfire with precisely placed arrows through their necks. Teldryn pulled out a cloth to wipe his blade, envying such accuracy momentarily. The guards climbed down from the shadows and he nodded with approval.

"Well done."


Teldryn ground jerky between his teeth, watching the snow in his cooking pot liquifying as he held it near the fire of the first sentry camp. Next to him on the ground, Fethis slept huddled tightly into his bedroll despite the warmth the flames provided. Whether Fethis' demeanor was simply from the chill or perhaps dread and troubling thoughts, Teldryn didn't know. Likely some combination of all those unpleasant feelings and while he fully understood, he hoped the old man would be able to come out of it when he needed to, for that time was quickly approaching.

The dawn was swelling over Hvitkald, igniting the ash around the southern part of the island in the subtle shades of Azura's light. It was the third morning since they'd set out on this mission; three long, cold nights that turned Teldryn's thoughts painfully inward. He insisted on keeping watch, boring as it was, preferring to remain in this present misery than to be jolted back into it after a few fitful hours of escape. No matter the state he was in, the same question weighted his mind heavily. How did she fare? He had no doubt that Milore could care for her wounds expertly, much better than himself, but only he knew what it had taken for her to do what she had to get them. It was not the physical effects that concerned him most. Through the shifts of day to night and his actions that were driven of a new purpose, he held for her a constant prayer to the goddess he had never paid much heed, hoping his desperation would be enough to atone for his neglect.

The two soldiers nearby roused and Teldryn splashed cold water onto his face to clear his head. He poured the rest from the pot into his waterskin as they went about their morning activities, bringing his mind back to the present and taking a final mental rundown of his plan. There were a few ways this day could go and he was increasingly suspecting the result would have little to do with anything Fethis could say. If Teldryn was being completely honest with himself, it would be a lie to say he hoped for the best.

He nudged Fethis with his foot.

"Wake up, it's time."


He looked over the knot of the rope around the base of the tree, giving a good tug to check its fidelity. He then tossed the rope over the cliff, the lowest part he could find between the cave and the mine that was out of the sightline of either. Teldryn turned to his companions, addressing Fethis first.

"Ready, old man?"

Fethis had emerged from his solitude with a phenomenal scowl that deepened now as his eyes followed the rope to the edge. "I suppose it's too late to make an argument for walking along the beach like normal people?"

"If you had any input, you were welcome to add it to the discussion yesterday."

Fethis made a dismissive sound. "You wouldn't have listened."

Teldryn grinned. "You got me there. Come now, it's not too far down. I'll catch you if you fall, I swear it." He picked up the rope, leaning his weight on it with a foot on the ledge. "And if you're successful today, then we won't even have to make the climb back up."

"Let's just get on with it," Fethis groused.

Teldryn fully agreed, intending on doing just that. He nodded to the soldiers. "You have your orders."

"Yes, Serjo," one replied as both placed their fists over their hearts. Teldryn swallowed, hesitating a moment before mirroring the familiar gesture that had long since become foreign to his body. These men and the two he'd left at Northshore had followed his word faithfully and without complaint. They deserved the acknowledgment.

Grasping the rope with both hands, he dropped over the cliff, walking himself down the uneven face that gave him plenty of footing. At the bottom, he scanned the area while the soldiers pulled the rope back up to secure around the Fethis' waist. Teldryn waited underneath while Fethis was lowered down and once he had two feet on the ground, gave him space to untie himself and situate his pack and clothing.

They both watched the end of the rope for a moment as it swayed lightly while it ascended once more, then their eyes drifted to each other. "It begins now," Teldryn said.

Fethis sighed. "However this goes, I will say what I must but trust that our interests are aligned." Teldryn nodded, believing that he meant it, deciding to keep the doubts to himself that it would matter in the least.

"May Mephala spin your words, then," he said, extending his arm.

A slight gleam flickered in Fethis' eyes as he reached out to clasp around Teldryn's bracer. "And Boethiah guide your sword."

The risen sun reflected brightly against the sea as they walked toward the coast, coming across a path that had begun to wear from the recent foot traffic. As the repurposed reikling hovels of the mine came into view, there were a few people sitting on a rock on the edge of the shore with fishing lines cast into the sea. Fethis made his way toward the group and called out to them.

"Hail! Fine morning for fishing, I hope," he said in a friendly tone that Teldryn had not been aware he was capable of.

Curious eyes turned toward them, two men and two women, all looking to be breton or imperial. One of the men answered cautiously, "Aye, it's a good spot." He cocked his head toward a large basket nearby full of cod and salmon.

"That it is," Fethis replied genially. "One of my favorites, in fact. And you lot have been keeping me from it." The fishers all looked to between themselves at the admonishment, a couple of them shrugging. "Ah, but no matter," Fethis dismissed. "I was wondering if I might speak with your master. You see, I'm a merchant by trade and I believe I can be of some assistance to your new settlement."

"Uhhh, I s'pose so..." the first man said hesitantly.

"You got any venison?" The other man piped up. "We run out and I'm getting real tired of fish and horker. Damned mercenaries are chasin' everythin' off up there in the woods."

Fethis' face creased into an unnatural grin. "Should your master set up an agreement with me I will certainly see to it that my hunters provide venison." The fishers all perked up, smiling amongst themselves. "So," Fethis interrupted their small celebration. "Who do I ask for?"

"Master Hertarian," a woman supplied readily. "Gaven, I think. Oh, and bring us rabbit, too."

"Of course," he said with a slight bow. He turned away, the smile dropping to only a small quirk at the corner of his mouth as he arched his brow, then beckoned with a hand for Teldryn to follow as he continued on. Teldryn shook off the slight awe at the old man's unexpected silver tongue and stilled his own to maintain his role. He hovered behind his patron as they neared the main campsite, taking a closer look at what he'd been able to observe from the spyglass.

Workers milled about the camp that they'd integrated into the existing reikling structures, and among them were stationed more of the mercenary company in their coordinated armors, fully kitted with well-worn bows, maces, and swords. There was probably one for every four workers he spotted, a presence that was beyond necessary to protect from reavers or the odd frost troll. The East Empire Company had come expecting a siege from the looks of it, and they had an advantage in the small and easily defensible chokepoint, especially with the way the mine opening was entrenched within a series of staggered boulders. All for nothing, Teldryn thought as he grinned under the shawl.

A mercenary with more ornately engraved armor stepped forward into their path a few paces ahead. "Halt! State your business."

Fethis opened his arms amiably. "With pleasure. I am Fethis Alor, a merchant from Raven Rock." The mercenary narrowed his eyes. "I've been in contact with Master Aeresius in Solitude for some time and he's informed me that should I desire to set up trade with your camp here, I should speak with a certain Gaven Hertarian?"

The mercenary scrutinized Fethis' remarkably honest expression, then slid his eyes to Teldryn, lingering for a long moment on the blue cloth before finally casting a glance up at the smoke trail that still rose steady and reassuringly from the mountain.

"Aye, alright," the man said, satisfied with his conclusions. "But he stays in his cabin on the Caldana if you fancy a walk to the harbor."

Fethis shrugged. "We've walked this far."

"Oy! Heifnir!" The mercenary hollered to another man nearby, grabbing his attention away from the woman he was loitering about as she washed potatoes in a bucket. Heifnir leaned down to whisper something to the girl, leaving her blushing as he made his way over grinning like a sabre cat, carrying himself in a similar fashion. The axe on his hip still showed bloodstains, and in place of a shield, his left bracer was constructed heavier with spikes extending over his knuckles like claws. This was a man who liked to fight and he knew how to kill. When Teldryn met the dancing ice blue eyes that peered out from his steel helm, it was apparent that a reciprocal calculation was going on in his head as well.

"What can I do ya for?" Heifnir asked blithely, looking to his commander.

"These two've got an appointment with Hert. They're needing an escort and that poor lass is needing a good break from you."

Heifnir put a hand on his heart as if wounded. "A break?" He glanced her way, catching the furtive look she returned. "Why, I think she rather likes me."

"About as much as a meat seller likes a rabid dog," the commander retorted gruffly. "Now go."

Heifnir snorted, then motioned for them to join him. "Come on, then" He leaned in as they walked, jutting his thumb over his shoulder. "Don't think I've ever seen him crack a smile, guess that's why he's the boss, eh? But you two," he said as he resumed his swagger, sweeping a finger over them. "You look to be a barrel o' laughs." Fethis only gave him a thin smile. "No? We'll see about that."

They cleared the camp, entering a causeway that narrowed between jagged ice formations on one side, the perpetually looming cliff-face on the other. "Say," Heifnir interrupted the frosty silence. "Did ya run into any wolves along the way? Had to run them blighters outta that cave around the bend back there. Fat bastards had themselves a beautiful setup with the horker along these shores, they did."

Teldryn tightened the hand that rested on the hilt of his dagger and Fethis cast him a wary look before answering.

"We saw a few."