The sound of the horse's hooves echoed around them, along with the gentle rumble of the carriage as it rolled through the Wayward Pass. Uhther sat in the back, alone, quietly fuming. He was going the wrong way.

Not the wrong way to Winterhold, the pass was certainly the fastest way there from Windhelm, but Winterhold was not where he wanted to go. It was not where he needed to be.

'The Nine curse the Arch-Mage,' Uhther muttered as the carriage hit a bump in the road, 'why now, of all times?'

Sylgja had shown him the letter from Kharjo. He was there, in position, ready for the next step of the plan. And he, Uhther, was going in the opposite direction. He did not know how long Kharjo would be able to keep his cover. He was there, alone, surrounded by enemies. How long would he be able to keep up the pretence?

It had been nearly five days since Uhther had read the letter bound in the seal of the College of Winterhold and almost every hour of daylight since then had been spent on the road, which had not helped his mood.

He and his family had packed up their belongings at first light the day after Alaric had set off. They had then made the two-day journey back to Windhelm so that he could pick up some things he needed before carrying on alone. Rayya had accompanied them. The road beside the White River could be a dangerous place, she said, especially where it met the Darkwater. Uhther had agreed but swiftly turned her down when she had made the offer to come with him all the way to Winterhold.

'I don't know what will happen there,' he had said, 'I don't know what the Thalmor know. I can't see the Arch-Mage helping them, you know how her people feel about the Dominion, but if it is a trap, I want you and Calder here watching over my family.'

He had been grateful that Rayya had not pressed the matter. The truth was that he wanted her with him. Or Calder, or indeed anyone he could rely on. The truth was, Uhther was nervous about what he might find at the College. Though he might be thane of Winterhold, he did not really know anyone. He had no housecarl there, none of his sworn swords, no one. He would be alone. Someone there to back him up would have made him feel infinitely better. But no, Sylgja and the children needed that protection more than he did. He had a shield of his own which would serve him more than well. He touched the rim of that shield now. It was lying by his foot. The solidity of it was reassuring.

All the same, he had been tempted to ask Alfarinn to turn the carriage west before they reached the pass. Head over to Dawnstar. Gregor would be a good man to have with him right now.

No, Uhther thought, irritated with himself. That would add another day, at least, onto the trip. And that was time he did not want to give up. Besides, it would probably be wise not to put the arch-mage on edge by turning up with an armed guard.

Uhther gripped the pommel of Dragon's Breath in his left hand. The blade lay sheathed in its scabbard, ready. That would have to do, he thought, if something happened.

He then thought of Lucia. She had also wanted to go, as had little Æthur and it had only been Sylgja's firm hand and Sofie staring the boy down that had stopped the two of them jumping into the carriage with their father. Uhther smiled. The two of them were so eager to prove themselves.

But that time would come, and probably sooner than he would like, Uhther thought solemnly. Especially if things went the way he thought they would. There was no question of Æthur getting involved, he was still far too young. But Lucia was almost a grown woman and the time would soon come when not even the stern words of her father would be able to stop her from setting out in search of her own adventure.

Uhther thought of the locked chest in the children's room. He had put it in there because its contents would someday be theirs. Steel ingots, quicksilver, ebony and dragon bone, all of it ready for the day when Lucia and Æthur would have need of them, and Sofie too of course. And on that day, Uhther would light his forge again and create arms and armour worthy enough for the children of the Dragonborn.

But not yet, Uhther prayed silently to Talos, not yet.

Still Uhther could not help but imagine a future in which he found himself riding in a carriage opposite Lucia, and Æthur too should Uhther live long enough, the two of them clad in steel, swords at their waists, on the way to some new adventure. The vision put a funny feeling into Uhther's stomach, a feeling he couldn't put a name to.

The carriage left the pass and followed the new road north towards the imperial road that would take them east. Uhther fancied he could see the tower of Alftand, even from this distance.

Not long now, he thought to himself, only a couple more hours and I'll be there.

And then, he wondered, what will I face there? Just what, exactly, do I have waiting for me?

Uhther had only visited the College of Winterhold once before, years ago, when Savos Aren had still been running the place. He had not paid the Arch-Mage much notice, in truth. It had been the library he was interested in, not the college's sorcery.

But he had heard the stories of what had happened since. It had been soon after Uhther had defeated Alduin that rumours ran up and down the province, whispers of something called the Eye of Magnus, of Thalmor involvement, of the death of the Arch-Mage and the Master Wizard.

No one outside of the college had ever learned what really happened. All that was known was that an old Nord called Tolfdir had been named Master Wizard of the College while the seat of Arch-Mage had been passed to Savos Aren's protege, a Redguard woman named Safiya al-Ruuz. And that was how it had been ever since, as far as Uhther knew. The Dragonborn tried not to get involved with the mages any more than he had to. Their business was their business, he had his own to deal with.

The snows began getting heavier as they continued on to the north east. The great horse pulling the carriage huffed and snorted but did not falter, even as the snows began to get deeper. Uhther was more worried about the wagon than the horse. If it got stuck in a drift then they would have to walk the rest of the way. Three miles in driving wind and snow. Uhther was already craving a hot fire and a belly full of mead.

They were lucky. The snows did not deepen so much that the new road became unusable. The new road met the old one and, not soon enough for Uhther's liking, the College of Winterhold came into view, looming over the horizon.

The town of Winterhold had grown considerably in recent years. A partnership between the new Jarl and the new Arch-Mage had proved mutually beneficial. The town had expanded and was now almost as large as Whiterun. It even had the beginnings of a stone wall around it. It was before this wall that Alfarinn reined in his horse.

'Here we are,' he said, 'Winterhold. And I think it may be grander now than it was when last I was here.'

Uhther hopped down from the carriage, retrieved his shield, and looked towards the gate. Beside it hung a banner showing the three towers of Winterhold. Two town guards, showing the same crest on the shields, stood watch outside. There was another banner hanging from the wall, the familiar imperial dragon banner. Uhther looked again at the walls, and the new, well built houses that lay behind it.

The benefits of cooperation, Uhther thought with a kind of bitter satisfaction. He approached the gate. The guards knew him on sight and did not try to bar his way. One of them gave him a respectful nod as he went in.

'Hail, Dragonborn,' he said. Uhther gave him a small smile in response. It had been a long time since he had come up this far north, but he supposed many would still remember him.

As he walked through the new part of the town, Uhther looked appreciatively at the houses. The snow was falling heavily, as it always seemed to in Winterhold, but still children were playing and the glow of fires could be seen through the windows and the gaps in the doorways.

It dawned on Uhther then that, though he was a thane of the hold, he had no place of residence here. Indeed, Winterhold was the only hold where he owned no property.

Perhaps I should pay a visit to old Kraldar, Uhther mused, especially if I'll need to be coming here more often. I don't know what the Arch-Mage wants, after all.

That was for another time though. Right now, he knew, he had to get up to the college. Uhther could see it, even now, its towers reaching up above the roofs of the town.

In spite of himself, Uhther felt a small shiver run down his spine.

He let out a heavy breath, gripped the hilt of Dragon's Breath still tighter, just for reassurance, and continued through the town and out. To the bridge. And there, waiting for him, just as she had been the last time he had come here, was the Altmer, Faralda.

'Greetings,' the high elf said, smiling, her golden skin still somehow managing to glow, even under the iron grey clouds overhead, 'I remember you, though it has been years since you were last here. What brings you to the College of Winterhold, Dragonborn?'

Uhther thought he heard her put a strange, almost mocking, inflection to the last word. Though, of course, given his deep mistrust of high elves he could easily have imagined it. He decided not to press the issue but instead held up the note, being sure to show the elf the blue-grey seal.

'The Arch-Mage wished to see me,' he said simply.

'Ahh,' Faralda nodded, understandingly. She said no more but instead beckoned Uhther to follow her across the bridge. With only the slightest of hesitations, Uhther heaved a heavy sigh, and followed her into the college.