The trio of orcs made much better time once they came south of the snowline—and also Muzgu grumbled less. Passing Windhelm by, they stopped briefly at Kynesgrove, where the others hung back as Vash spoke with the mage Dravynea. He brought a gift of a small bag of frost salts, which she always needed for her work in the wretched heat of Steamscorch Mine. They traded conversation about applying frost runes in non-aggressive circumstances, while Yanakh stared up at the trees and Muzgu glared at any of the locals who came too close.

'That was a waste of time,' muttered Muzgu, as they departed Kynesgrove, heading up a fainter path behind the settlement.

'I'm still Archmage,' said Vash, regretting how firm his voice was. 'Part of that's maintaining ties with mages outside the College.'

Muzgu was silent, and they walked on, past a circle of stones barely visible above the grass, covered with moss. An ancient burial mound, now sunk mostly beneath the earth, only visible due to its top having been ripped away as the dragon within was brought back to life by its god. Years ago, now. In a few more the spot would be lost again.

Soon they had climbed high enough to be above the snowline again. Muzgu wrapped her cloak tighter around her.

'Old-Father's balls,' she said. 'There's gonna be a lot of this bullshit, huh?'

Vash gave a small smile. 'Afraid so. You get used to it.'

It wasn't long before the stronghold of Narzulbur came into sight. Approaching by the path forced them between two watchtowers, the first on their left outside the walls, and the second on their right inside the walls. Vash hailed the orc on the right tower, an older female dressed in furs. Yanakh was frowning up at the unoccupied tower outside the walls.

'Why did they build that?' she wondered, as they waited for the gate to be opened for them. 'If you were up there when an attack came, you'd be cut off.'

The gate swung open to reveal two female orcs, the one from the tower, and another, wearing a simple brown and yellow dress.

'The agent of Malacath,' said the first. 'We were told of your coming.'

'I read it in the entrails,' said the second. She smiled. 'Please, enter. I am Bolar, and this my sister Yatul.'

Vash swept his hood back and formally greeted both, using their names as he did so, in an effort to commit them to memory. Once inside, he could see that Narzulbur was built on two levels. The lower level, on which they had entered, contained a shelter just in front of them for the skinning and other preparation of any meat brought back from the hunt. Further on was an alchemy lab, a vegetable patch, and a closed hut, all built up against the outer wall.

'We didn't know what to expect,' said Bolar. 'But we are of course grateful for Malacath's help.'

'Don't need help,' said Yatul. She turned and yelled the name 'Urog' up further into the stronghold. In a moment, a young female orc trotted down to join them, looking at the newcomers without great interest. 'Take over on the watchtower,' said Yatul. 'We have to entertain the guests.'

Urog just nodded and trod up to the watchtower, while Bolar and Yatul shepherded their guests up a slight slope, towards the longhouse itself. Vash was at the door when he realised that Muzgu and Yanakh were no longer right behind him. He turned to see Yanakh scratching the ears of some goats kept in a small pen. Muzgu was looking around the stronghold with narrow eyes, her hands vanished beneath her cloak.

'Our chief wishes to break bread with you,' said Bolar. Vash tried to signal with his eyes that he wanted the others to come with him, that he would be lost without their superior knowledge of orc customs.

Instead, Muzgu said, 'You're the agent, you go.' She made a vague gesture at their surroundings. 'We'll case the place.'

'See if there's anything we can do,' said Yanakh, without looking up from the goats.

'If you wish,' said Bolar, and she and her sister ushered Vash inside the longhouse.

Vash's eyes took a moment to adjust to the dimmer light inside. The main room bore a fireplace directly in front of him. He focused first on the boots lined up to dry, then looked upwards to see a series of heads mounted above: a bear, a wolf, and a skeever. He wondered why anybody would be proud of having killed a skeever. Slightly to the right, close to the fire, was a small table with two chairs across from each other, and it was from here that the chief rose to meet them.

'Chief Mauhulakh,' he announced himself as. Vash, remembering his earlier discussion on the road, kept his own introduction just to his first name. 'I see you've already met my aunts.'

Vash looked at the two women, trying not to betray his surprise. He had assumed that one or both of the women would have been the chief's wives. And though the ages of orcs were often hard to gauge, he saw now that Bolar and Yatul were not young, though they busied themselves with domestic tasks, bringing plates and food, insisting that Vash and the chief sit. In the centre of the table was a tankard with a sprig of mountain flowers in it, and Vash fixated on it as the bustle continued around the table.

'I'm not sure what to say to an agent of Malacath,' said Mauhulakh.

Vash made himself smile, though there was some sweat forming on the back of his neck. Just from being so close to the fire, he told himself.

'I don't think there's a protocol,' he said. There was a pause, during which he wasn't sure he'd been understood. 'We're on, um, uncharted ground,' he added.

At the insistence of the aunts, he took some meat from the centre of the table. Mauhulakh took a hunk of bread and nibbled around its edges.

'You won't join me?' Vash asked.

Mauhulakh looked at his aunts before replying. 'I had my fill before,' he said.

Vash frowned at his food. 'Perhaps you could tell me a bit about the stronghold,' he said.

Mauhulakh's expressed brightened and he thumped his chest. 'We are prosperous,' he said. 'Our mine produces much ebony, and the outlanders pay us piles of gold for it. Down in Windhelm they are jealous of us.'

'We do not need Malacath's aid,' said Yatul. 'We do not understand why you are here.' Her and Bolar had moved to stand on either side of the chief.

'What my sister means,' added Bolar, 'is that we don't think there's anything you can do for us.'

Mauhulakh tore his bread into little pieces, but said nothing. Vash cleared his throat. The other three orcs looked at him, and he thought he caught something approaching desperation in the chief's eyes.

'Forgive me,' said Vash, 'but do you have no wives?'

'I am cursed,' blurted Mauhulakh. Yatul laid a hand on his shoulder, and the chief was silent.

Bolar shook her head sadly. 'I have read the entrails many times, but cannot fathom why our nephew's wives continue to meet with tragedy,' she said.

'Tragedy?' asked Vash, leaning forward.

'Two died in childbirth,' said Bolar. 'The other two grew sick. I did all I could, but even my healing arts have limits.' She shook her head again. 'Perhaps it is not the will of Malacath that there be another.'

'That is not the orcish way,' said Vash.

'You do not know what the orcish way is,' said Yatul.

'With respect,' added Bolar, 'you have spent much time away from our people. Can you say those words and truly know what they mean?'

Vash pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. Perhaps they were right. Maybe someone in the stronghold would know a way to open a channel of communications with Malacath, so he could ask that the mantle be passed to someone else. Yanakh, Muzgu, anyone from any of the strongholds would be more qualified than him. He realised he was staring into space and not speaking.

'I should see how my associates are getting on,' he managed, and left the longhouse. Down the slope he saw Muzgu leaning against the exterior wall, near the vegetable patch. She hadn't taken off her hood the entire time he'd been in her company. He approached her quickly, the words forming in his head about his request. But she spoke first, quietly, her eyes focussed somewhere else.

'Pretty sure the aunts are killing all the chief's wives,' she said. She nodded in the direction of a hut Vash hadn't noticed, up the slope to the left of the longhouse. 'Full of alchemy stuff. Mostly poisons. The good stuff, too.'

A very specific feeling travelled down Vash's spine. Nefarious plots at work. Sinister goings-on. Images flashed through his mind of the Thalmor and their attempt to control the Eye of Magnus. An attempt he had put an end to. He knew how to deal with this.

'They control him,' he said, looking back to the longhouse, whose door remained closed.

Muzgu snorted. 'Course. Power behind the chief. A wife would give him an ally, decrease his reliance on 'em.'

'There are children, though,' said Vash.

Muzgu pointed at the younger orc on the watchtower, and then to the east, across a narrow bridge. In the latter direction Vash could see the wavering heat in the air and the clash of metal on metal that signalled the presence of a forge.

'Urog and Dushnamub,' said Muzgu. 'He works the forge, and she does whatever the aunts tell her to do. No help out of her.'

'How do we fix this?' asked Vash. 'The jarls don't like interfering in stronghold matters, but if they've killed four people…'

'They're fools.'

'The jarls or the aunts?'

'Both,' said Muzgu. 'The aunts are gonna die before the chief does, and without them to back him up, he'll lose this place to the first challenger that comes along. He needs other allies. He needs a wife. More than one, if we can find more than one orc stupid enough to want to come all the fucking way out here.'

'There are three other strongholds,' said Vash. 'I'm sure we'll be able to find someone.' He could see it now. It was like a puzzle. He just hadn't understood what the pieces were, or how they fitted together. There was still so much he didn't know, but far off in the distance he could glimpse the blurry shape of it all.

'Hmm, maybe,' said Muzgu. She gestured to the bridge, where they could see Yanakh striding across, coming to meet them. In a few brief sentences, they filled her in on what they had learned so far, and what their plans were.

'I've been talking to Dushnamub, and the miners,' said Yanakh, indicating over the bridge with her thumb. 'He'd like to leave, but doesn't want the stronghold to be without a smith.'

'Would he challenge his father?' asked Muzgu.

'I don't think so. The miners, though…'

'How many?' asked Vash.

'Four,' said Yanakh. 'Bor and Mogdurz came here years ago. I think the aunts stuck them out in the mine so the chief wouldn't make either of them wife number—whatever he's up to. But the others, Gadba and Mul, they're brothers. They came up from Largashbur to work in the mine. They're a threat.'

'I bet the aunts ain't popular around here,' said Muzgu. She spat into the dirt. 'Alright, I gotta admit, this isn't as shit as some strongholds I seen. Sometimes running them is more trouble than it's worth. But this place, all that ebony? This is a prize.'

Yanakh nodded. 'And it is well-positioned, up here on the hill,' she said. 'It would be very hard to attack it from outside.'

They all fell silent for a moment. Vash realised the other two were looking at him. He reached for words and found nothing.

'You're standing on a leek,' said Yanakh.

Vash looked down and saw that his right boot was indeed firmly on top of the vegetable in question. He stepped to the side. The leek was crumpled and flat. He sighed.

'I think I need some advice,' he said. Yanakh and Muzgu looked at each other, then Muzgu coughed.

'Like I said,' she said. 'Load the place up with wives. I'll have a word with the aunts, let them know what's what.'

'He's not worth it,' said Yanakh. Vash looked at her with surprise, so she continued. 'Mauhulakh is a weak chief. If that gets him removed, so be it. We shouldn't interfere.'

'We have literally been hired to interfere,' said Muzgu.

'I don't think we should give up,' said Vash, feeling an old stubbornness rising in him. He looked around the stronghold. The place was not to his tastes, but that didn't mean it should be left to chaos and possible ruin. He held a map of Skyrim in his head and found that it helped. Lines of connection leading in many directions, crisscrossing the province.

'Well, O wise agent of Malacath?' asked Muzgu.

'Winterhold needs a blacksmith,' said Vash. 'Kraldar and I, we've been looking for one.'

'Starting your own little stronghold up there, are you?'

'It solves both problems. Mauhulakh gets a wife, and Dushnamub gets to leave.'

'If we can find him any wives,' put in Yanakh.

'We will,' said Vash. He already had someone in mind: Ghorza, who ran the forge in Markarth. He'd approached her about coming to Winterhold, but she'd refused. Maybe she would reject the offer of coming to Narzulbur as well. But maybe she wouldn't, and everything would fall into place. She was a strong orc, too, and wouldn't stand for being ordered around by anybody's aunts.

'Would these miners be any better chiefs?' Muzgu asked Yanakh. 'Are they filled with chiefly qualities?'

Yanakh shrugged. 'They have ambition,' she said.

'And there are two of them,' added Vash. 'What happens to the one who isn't chief?'

'Huh,' said Yanakh. 'Alright, what do we do about them then?'

Vash stared at the sky. It looked like it might start snowing soon. In that case, they should start heading south quickly, he thought. There was always trudging through snow while going in and out of Winterhold, he always preferred to avoid adding any more of that to the journey.

'Induct them properly into the tribe,' he said.

Yanakh's eyebrows went up. 'How does that help?' she asked.

'It gives them a stake,' said Vash. 'It becomes more in their interests to keep things running smoothly.'

'Well, it makes sense when he says it,' said Muzgu, throwing her hands up.

'I don't think that's going to work,' said Yanakh. She folded her arms. 'But I won't oppose you. You'll tell the chief?'

Vash nodded, looking up towards the longhouse. 'If you can distract the aunts.'

Muzgu cracked her knuckles. 'Leave it to me. I gotta have a talk to them about not poisoning these fancy new wives the chief's going to be drowning in.'

Vash left it to her. Muzgu took the aunts aside. Vash took Chief Mauhulakh aside and told him of the plans. The chief agreed to everything, most enthusiastically to the prosper of possibly having multiple wives at once. Afterwards, Vash accompanied Mauhulakh up towards the mine, as the chief went to convey the news to Gadba and Mul that they would be inducted into the tribe. Vash separated from him at the forge, delaying to talk to Dushnamub.

'Multiple wives,' said the chief's son, shaking his head. 'I just hope they don't end up adding to our graveyard. He spends too much time there already.' He paused in his speech while he hammered a particularly stubborn dent out of a breastplate. 'I don't know where I'll go. Somewhere far from here.'

'We're trying to get a blacksmith's store started in Winterhold,' said Vash.

'Winterhold,' mused Dushnamub, moving his hammer back and forth between his hands. 'Never been.'

'Lots of people complain about the cold.'

Dushnamub laughed. 'Not me,' he said. He gestured at the view out over Eastmarch. 'Wind here comes straight at me while I'm working. I can take it.'

'We'd be glad to have you,' said Vash.

Dushnamub looked at Vash for a few moments. 'A store,' he said.

'It'd be yours. The forge, and the house, all the profits. It's almost all in place, just waiting for someone.'

'I don't think I'm going to get a better offer than that,' said Dushnamub. They grasped wrists, and Vash found himself grinning. 'But I won't leave until there's someone here to work the forge,' Dushnamub added.

'Of course,' said Vash. 'I would have expected nothing less.' In truth, that little detail had slipped his mind entirely. Still, the next town they passed through, he'd try and find a courier to send a message back to Jarl Kraldar to make sure everything was ready at the prospective forge in Winterhold.

They said their farewells for now, and Vash trod across the bridge back into the stronghold proper, meeting Muzgu and Yanakh waiting for him at the gate. They didn't share his positive expression, but he barely noticed.

'All sorted?' he said. The two other orcs looked at each other. 'I think that went quite well.' He rubbed his hands together, slipped between them, and lead the way out of the stronghold and down the hill. 'If they're all this easy, we'll be back home in no time.'