Uhther Stormfist, Disciple of Kyne, Legate of the Northern Legion, Thane of nine holds, Wallbreaker, Husband to Harpies, Slayer of the Glenmoril Witches, Champion of the Sun and Dragonborn Hero of Skyrim, dug the hoe deep into the soil of his garden.
That was the problem with creep cluster, he thought, no sooner had pulled what you thought was the last of it out, the damned stuff was back again, attacking the crops. Uhther reached down and yanked up another creeper with a snarl of annoyance, tossing it into a sack that lay open by his feet. No doubt Roggi could make some use of it, he spent enough time in the alchemy lab.
From the other side of the house he could hear the children playing. The whack and crack of wooden sword on wooden sword echoed in the still summer air, as did Sofie's scolding when Lucia went at her little brother too hard.
At the sound of the play, Uhther felt a smile spread across his face. Lucia had come a long way since the days when she had been begging in the streets of Whiterun, before Uhther had adopted her. She was well on the way to becoming a shield maid of renown, that one. She was always itching to train with sword and shield and even more so since little Æthur had been born. It seemed the boy had only just started walking when Lucia had dragged him outside and pressed a wooden practice sword into his pudgy hand.
All this was done under the hawk-like watchfulness of Sofie, Uhthur's other adopted daughter. She was no warrior, but she was no less fearsome for that. Uhthur sometimes pitied the one who would one day take her to wife. Sofie would have them wrapped around her finger before the priest of Mara even gave them the rings. She had grown into a rare beauty with long, raven hair and pale skin. As different in looks to Lucia, with her short, flaxen hair and olive toned skin typical of an imperial, as she was in temperament.
Yet, for all their differences, the two girls had been all Uhther could have hoped for in daughters these past years and had both been overjoyed when Sylgja had given birth to Æthur. In truth, they had spent more time raising the boy than Uhther had. The Dragonborn was often called away to help with this matter or that, helping suppress a new bandit group or else dealing with some matter of state one of the jarls wanted his help with. This was why when he was able to spend time with his family, Uhther made a point of doing as much to help as he could, even if that meant missing out on playtime.
Uhther looked longingly at the wooden sword that lay propped up against the side of the house, the one he used when he joined in with the games. If he could get the garden weeded quickly enough, he might be able to join the children after all. It was always fun to have Lucia and Æthur work together against him, usually to rescue Sofie, or their mother, or both, with Uhther playing the role of an evil warlord or a troll.
'Trolls don't use swords,' Æthur had protested the last time they had done this as Uhther fought him and his sister off while holding a giggling Sofie over his shoulder.
'How would you know, boy?' Uhther had demanded, swatting his son lightly on the top of the head with the flat of the wooden sword, 'have you ever fought one? Because I have, loads of them.'
'And did any have swords?' Lucia had demanded, swatting him on the thigh with her own sword.
Uhther winced as he dropped to his knees in mock defeat. 'No,' he admitted, 'but they didn't need them.'
So lost was Uhther in this pleasant memory that he didn't notice Rayya drawing close, a stranger stood behind her.
'My thane,' she called, insistently, bringing Uhther out of his reverie. He turned to see his housecarl stood on the other side of the garden fence. Behind her was a man who had the bearing of a courier.
'This man claims to have a delivery for you,' Rayya said, indicating the man. Uhther felt his stomach tighten. Could this be it? Could this be what he was waiting for?
'You must be weary from your journey,' Uhther said to the courier, 'would you care for a drink?'
The man seemed taken aback, Uhther imagined he was not used to such an invitation. Most couriers simply delivered their packages and then made their way to the nearest inn.
'Oh no, that's alright,' the courier said, his voice rather hoarse, 'I was going to head down to Falkreath...'
'I may have replies to send,' Uhther cut him off, 'besides there's nothing you can find in Falkreath that you can't get here. Please, I insist.'
The man still seemed hesitant, though Uhther saw him look up at the house with open awe. He had to suppress a small smile. This was not the first man to be struck by his legend when they met and Uhther would be lying if he said he did not enjoy that a little.
'Alright,' the courier said, finally.
Uhther, flanked by Rayya, led the courier towards the front door.
'Sylgja!' he called as they went, 'we have a guest!'
His wife and children appeared around the side of the house. Sofie and Æthur looked inquisitive, Lucia openly suspicious. Sylgja shot her husband a questioning look before chivying the children to follow them inside with Llewellyn, Uhther's bard, bringing up the rear.
'Roggi!' Uhther called as they entered Lakeview manor, 'we have a visitor. Open a cask of the good mead, would you?'
The knot-bearded steward hurried out of his rooms at the back of the house to meet them.
'Some of the Blackbriar, lord?' Roggi asked. Uhther spat in contempt.
'No, none of that Orc piss,' he said, 'Why do you keep buying that filthy stuff?'
'Blackbriar is the best mead in all of Skyrim, lord,' Roggi, smugly, 'I should know, I've sampled them all.'
'That's as may be,' Uhther said, his mouth twitching, 'but I'll have nothing to do with Maven Blackbriar, and that includes drinking her mead.'
'And yet you keep in touch with Ingun,' Sylgja said, coyly, taking a seat at the main table and sitting Æthur on her lap. The two girls sat across from her while Rayya took her usual seat at the foot of the table. Uhther wagged a finger at his wife.
'it is not the same,' Uhther insisted, 'Ingun is not her mother. And Ingun is not in the pocket of the Thalmor. Why Tullius allowed that vile woman to take the Rift's seat, I've never understood.'
'So a cask of a lesser vintage then, lord?' Roggi asked, with the superior air of a connoisseur.
Uhther heaved a sigh. 'We have some of the Honningbrew left, I think,' he said, 'fetch that, would you?'
As Roggi Knot-Beard left to retrieve the mead, Uhther turned to the visitor and gestured towards the table.
'Take a seat, friend,' Uhther said in his warmest tone, 'and let me see what you've brought me.'
The courier jumped at being addressed so familiarly before reaching into a satchel that hung from his shoulder. Pulling out two tightly rolled scrolls, each wrapped in a different coloured ribbon and sealed with wax, he handed each to the Uhther before taking a seat besides Rayya.
Uhther regarded the scrolls curiously. He had only been expecting the one.
The seal on one of the scrolls was a plain red, a simple sealant, while the other was sealed with pale blue wax, pressed with the symbol of an eye in the centre of a five-pointed star. Uhther's breath caught in his throat. This was the symbol of the College of Winterhold.
Why would the Arch-Mage be writing to him?
Resisting the urge to read the message he had so eagerly been awaiting, Uhther broke the pale blue seal. The Arch-Mage was not someone who should be kept waiting, even when it came to reading letters.
It was a short message, nothing dissimilar to the kind of thing Uhther had received uncountable times in the past. Yet he knew, somehow just knew, that this was something that would impact his entire life. It was the same feeling he'd gotten that day, so long ago, when he had crept into the cave beneath Bleak Falls Barrow and first heard the chanting of the Word Wall.
The candles lit on the table seemed to illuminate the page and throw the words into sharp relief.
We need to talk – Safiya al-Ruuz
