'This is bloody ridiculous,' Lucia fumed as her horse, a bay gelding named Fleet, trotted steadily in the wake of Jarl Brunwulf's stallion. The Fangs were behind her, also mounted, also plodding along at the slow pace set by the jarl. Though Lucia was grateful to Brunwulf for giving them so many horses, they had cleared out the Windhelm stables, she had rather hoped they would be making for Solitude as quickly as possible.

But no. It turned out that Brunwulf was bringing a detachment of the Windhelm guard with him and so their pace was set at marching speed. They had been on the road for nearly a day and were only now passing into The Pale. At this rate it would be the week's end by the time they reached the capital.

Though perhaps that was the jarl's intention. Lucia was beginning to get the impression that Brunwulf was waiting for something. He kept looking over his shoulder, over the heads of the guardsmen, back the way they had come, an impatient look on his face. Every time he did this, he leaned down to Jorleif, who was walking alongside him, to exchange some whispered words.

After the third time this had happened, Lucia had considered asking her grandmother to drop back to see if she could spot what had the jarl so on edge. But she was off ahead of the column. Annekke Crag-Jumper was a famous scout and had wasted no time offering her services to the jarl. Derkeethus, the other resident of Darkwater Crossing, who had accompanied Annekke, remained in the column, marching alongside Calder. She glanced back and saw them now. They appeared to be chatting away happily as they walked.

Seeing them immediately reminded Lucia of watching the rest of her family sailing away into the mist of the White River. Sofie leaning on the boat rail, Sylgja with little Æthur in her arms, Grandpa Verner hugging her comfortingly as they both looked back at the dock where Lucia and Annekke stood together. Sofie had leaned out and called something back but it had been lost in the noise of the docks.

Lucia wiped her eyes then looked back at the road ahead. They would be safe. Whatever happened next, they would be safe.

Whether that would be true of Samuel, Runa, Hroar and Haming, the friends she had left behind, was quite possibly another matter. Samuel had refused to tell Lucia what he was going to do, but insisted it would lead to the Kingsworn fighting on their side. Without thinking, Lucia spat to the side of the road. That was what she thought of that.

And then there was the new addition to their ranks. Lucia looked back to where Britte road alongside her sister, the mage apprentice, Sissel. From what she knew of them, there was no love lost between the two sisters and a good reason why Sissel had left for the College of Winterhold. There had apparently been words the previous night but none of the Fangs, not even Braith, had had the nerve to ask what had been said. And now they rode in silence, but together which must be a good sign. Possibly.

Lucia shook the thoughts away. It wasn't any of her business, she had no time to think about that. She looked ahead, at the slow pace of the jarl's horse. Who was she fooling? She had nothing but time.

She looked ahead. Though she knew it was impossible, she fancied she could see the Blue Palace of Solitude in the distance. She was starting to wish she'd taken a ship to Solitude rather than coming over land. But no, she and the Fangs had nowhere near enough coin to buy passage for themselves all the way to Solitude. Besides, they were stuck here now.

A stirring from the jarl made Lucia snap out of her reverie. Brunwulf turned to look at her.

'There's someone approaching,' he said. Lucia squinted and yes, there were two figures running towards them. She thought she knew who they were but readied Stormkist, just to be safe.

'Fangs!' she called back, 'Forward and ready!'

It took a little goading, not all the Fangs were experienced riders, but they were able to move their mounts forwards and draw weapons in readiness. A crackling told Lucia that Sissel had summoned lightning around her hands and was as ready to fight as the rest of them. Lucia smiled. Even if they were not used to fighting from horseback, a line of armed and armoured fighters on horseback would give any raiders or bandits cause to hesitate. The column of Windhelm guards came to a halt and, as news filtered down the lines, the men and women began fidgeting, some half drawing weapons.

Their efforts were unnecessary, as it turned out.

Just as Lucia had suspected, the figures turned out to be Annekke and Llirvalie. As they drew close, Lucia was struck by just how different the two women were. Llirvalie, dark skinned and dark eyes, her silver hair tied into a plait that ran down her back, moved with a fluid grace born from years of training; Annekke was pale skinned and, despite her years, possessed a mane of golden hair, though white was beginning to show at her temples, and moved more like a prowling wolf, not quite a delicate as Llirvalie's step yet even the dark elf had been impressed by the grandmother's agility.

The two of them, bows slung over their shoulders, stopped running only when they had reached the column. A few of the horses snorted and stamped nervously, but none so badly that their riders couldn't get them back under control.

'There are men approaching,' Annekke said, heaving steady breaths as she spoke. Lucia looked at her, concerned. As fit as she looked, she was not a young woman anymore.

'How many?' Brunwulf asked, looking worried.

'About a hundred, I'd say,' Llirvalie said, clearly nowhere near as tired as her companion, 'can't tell if they're moving to intercept us or if it's just coincidence. They're well-armed, though.'

'Were they flying any banners?' Brunwulf asked, 'Could you see their shields?'

Llirvalie nodded.

'They carry the three towers of Winterhold,' she said.

Brunwulf relaxed.

'Kraldar's likely on his way to the moot,' he said. And again, he glanced back down the road they'd just walked, as if expecting to see someone, 'we'll likely see Brina on the road, if she hasn't already set out.'

But Llirvalie wasn't finished.

'There's more, lord,' she said, 'the soldiers of Winterhold are accompanied by mages from the College. The Arch-mage herself seems to be leading them.'

The confident smile faded a little from Brunwulf's face. Any Nord of any sense knew to be wary of mages, and the Arch-mage most of all.

'How do you wish to proceed, Lord?' Jorleif asked, looking up at his jarl. 'should we move ahead or wait?'

Lucia could see the hesitation in Brunwulf's face for only a moment before surety filled the old man's face once more.

'We will march to Solitude alongside our countrymen,' he said, 'we move ahead.'

Jorleif nodded then signalled the column to begin moving again. The Fangs moved their horses to the side of the road to let them pass. Lucia had not signalled to moved ahead yet.

'You'll want to speak with the Arch-mage,' Llirvalie said and Lucia was surprised to realise the dark elf was now speaking to her.

'Me?' Lucia exclaimed, 'why would the Arch-mage want to speak to me?'

Llirvalie rolled her eyes.

'Well why don't you ask her yourself?' she said, 'she's just up ahead.'

Lucia thought for a moment, then made her decision. She turned to Braith.

'Keep the Fangs with the column until I get back,' she said. Braith, though she did not look too enthused, sighed and nodded. Lucia turned to Annekke. 'Grandmother, could you scout back behind the column? Brunwulf keeps looking back there and I'd like to know why.'

Annekke sighed. 'I do wish you wouldn't call me that, Lucia,' she said, chidingly, 'it makes me feel like a doting old lady. I'm not that decrepit yet.'

'Well what else would I call you?' Lucia demanded, 'you're my mother's mother.'

Annekke sighed. 'Very well, I suppose,' she said, 'I'll go take a quick look, I shan't be long.'

And with that, she was away. Running at a steady jog down the line of soldiers. She seemed to be moving faster than she had been when she was with Llirvalie. Lucia had a suspicion that she was keen to prove that she was still spry, despite being a grandmother.

Lucia then turned her mount around and cantered ahead, Llirvalie easily keeping pace on foot. It wasn't long before they saw the other column of armed men and women, these marching beneath the banner of the three towers. Lucia looked back to where the guardsmen of Windhelm marched beneath Brunwulf's bear banner. She wished the Fangs had a banner of their own. She remembered the banner they had made, likely still hanging above the old orphanage where they had left it when they had gone to Fort Greenwall.

A little behind the Winterhold guards, a smaller group stood, as if waiting. These men and women carried no weapons or shields. They wouldn't need them. Each of them wore the mantled robes and cowls of mages. They carried no banner, though one was holding a tall staff topped with a symbol made of bronze. A five-pointed star with an eye at its centre. The badge of the College of Winterhold.

One of them came forward and lowered her cowl revealing a dark skinned, stern and sombre face. Her robes, different from the others, were white as fresh snow, trimmed in sapphire blue. The Arch-mage herself.

'You are Lucia?' she asked, her voice so sharp it could likely slice through leather. Lucia had to force herself to remain upright on her mount.

'I am,' she said, her voice as strong as she could make it.

'I hear there are some in the south who call you the Young Dragon.'

'There are,' said Lucia, feeling a little embarrassed by the title in the face of this stern woman, 'a title my friends gave me.'

'A title earned, as I hear it,' the Arch-mage said, 'you took Riften and secured the entire Rift with a group barely off their mothers' apron strings, or off their mothers' milk, as I believe you Nords like to say. Then you went on to chase the Kingsworn all the way to Fort Amol. Quite an impressive achievement.'

Lucia was not sure whether to be flattered or insulted by the Arch-mage's words. She wondered if the mage knew she was actually an Imperial and not a Nord at all. The woman did not give her the chance to decide.

'I am Safiya al-Ruuz, Arch-mage of the College of Winterhold,' she said, as if that was not already obvious. 'I told Llirvalie to fetch you because I wanted to speak with you for a while as we walk to Solitude.'

'Why do you want to speak with me?' Lucia asked, careful to keep her tone respectful. Redguards were as prickly about their honour as Nords and would not respond well to rudeness.

'Because we have much to discuss,' Safiya said, as if this should have been obvious, 'especially if you intend to help your father, which is what I believe your plan is.'

'You know my father?' Lucia asked, immediately regretting her foolish question. Of course the Arch-mage would know the Dragonborn.

Safiya's mouth quirked into a slight smile but she made no comment on the question itself, instead answering; 'He and I have been working on something together, along with Llirvalie here, of course.' The Arch-mage turned to regard Llirvalie, the dark elf looking back cockily, though warily. 'I assume things in Riften are in order?'

'They are,' Llirvalie said, haughtily, 'Black-Briar's deposition made things a little difficult for a while, but once I was able to get this lot out of the city,' Llirvalie jerked her head at Lucia, 'the Guild was able to strike a deal with the new jarl. Things won't be as fruitful as they were under Black-Briar but I suppose that's the price we'll have to pay. Our operatives are now positioned where they need to be. As soon as the enemy moves, we'll know.'

Lucia glanced at Llirvalie. Operatives? She thought the dark elf had tricked her and the Fangs out of Riften simply so the Thieves Guild could operate more easily in the city. But from what Llirvalie said, there was more to it than that. Had her campaign against the Kingsworn been nothing but a ruse? Something to keep her busy and out of the way? What was going on?

Safiya was nodding.

'Good,' she said, 'so we have our spy network ready and you were able to deal with a potential problem. A good bit of business, I'd say.'

Llirvalie smiled coyly and nodded, but Lucia was starting to feel annoyed.

'Spy network for what?' she demanded, 'Who are you spying on? The Thalmor? We know they're coming for my father, why do you need spies?'

Safiya and Llirvalie exchanged a look.

'Well that's rather what we need to talk to you about,' said Safiya, 'there's a lot more to what your father is doing than a simple war against the Thalmor.'

'There is?' Lucia asked. How could anything be more important than pushing the Aldmeri Dominion out of Skyrim?

'Indeed so,' said Safiya, 'come, let us walk and I shall tell you about the Towers of Mundus.'