The next morning, when Vash came down from his chambers, Yanakh and Muzgu were waiting for him. He wanted to ask Yanakh how she was feeling, but Muzgu started talking immediately, pulling out a letter from inside her cloak.

'So, we've actually got another problem,' she said. She waved the letter at Vash. 'A messenger came for you.'

'You're opening my letters now,' said Vash.

'Jarl Brunwulf wants a word with you,' said Muzgu. 'He's being very diplomatic but he's pretty fucking concerned about the orcs up at Narzulbur fortifying "as if for war", hoping to avoid tensions, it's a lot of bullshit.'

'I wonder if he remembers where his ebony ore comes from,' said Yanakh.

'No rest, then,' said Vash. He smoothed his robes. 'I suppose I'll talk to him.'

'We're coming with you, obviously,' said Muzgu.

Vash looked at Yanakh, his mouth slightly open, wondering how to ask if she was doing okay enough for a possibly tense outing like this. Even just contemplating it made him feel tired and frustrated. There was a familiar anger growing, however, deep inside him.

'I'll be fine,' she said. 'Better to have something to do.'

'Just stand there and look like a threat to all the Nords hold dear,' said Muzgu. 'Maybe growl a little, steal all their gold and women, you know the drill.'

'That seems more your kind of thing,' said Yanakh.

Muzgu bowed low, and said, 'I'm flattered you think of me so.'

Vash took two detours before they left the College. The first was to get a staff, an accessory he always felt made him seem more like an Archmage when he met with important people. He had accumulated so many over the years, and spent a moment considering his options before deciding it didn't matter, and grabbed one at random. The second detour was to talk to Brelyna Maryon about the position of court mage in Whiterun. She considered, pacing back and forth for a minute, then said she would accept.

'To be honest, I would love the extra research space,' she said. 'Even the responsibilities. And the warmer climate, of course, that's a bonus. Yes, I think so. Thank you, Vash.'

'You'll have some cleaning up to do,' said Vash, wincing. 'I apologise in advance.'

'A new challenge,' said Brelyna, rubbing her hands together. 'This is just what I've been wanting. You know I almost miss that whole business with Saarthal and the Eye of Magnus?'

Vash remembered those days. He'd spent most of them not sleeping, trying desperately to keep his beloved College from falling apart. At the end of it, the appointment of Archmage had felt more like punishment than reward. But in retrospect, it was easy to think of it like a grand adventure. He supposed his unthinking acceptance of Malacath's offer wasn't much different from his friend's attitude.

Brelyna went off to pack, and Vash and his fellow orcs set out for Windhelm. Vash held the staff firmly by his side, planting it into the snow as he walked.

'What does it do?' asked Muzgu, her eyes narrowed.

'This one? I think it just makes a bright light.'

'They won't know that, though,' said Yanakh. 'That sharp bit of crystal, it looks dangerous.'

'That's the idea,' said Vash.

He took them off the path, slogging through the snow for what he assured them was both a shortcut, but also for dramatic effect. With Windhelm in sight across the water, he froze them a path of ice across to the docks. Their approach must have been seen. The guards had no mistake about his identity this time, but he ignored their welcome and instead greeted the Argonian dock workers.

The guards tried to escort them into the city, but Vash walked on as if they were not there. Once again, inside the city, he pleasantly greeted any Dunmer he saw, but reacted to any Nord as if they did not exist.

'Oh, they're going to hate this,' murmured Muzgu, with great satisfaction.

Vash pushed his way into the Palace of the Kings, Muzgu and Yanakh flanking him. Brunwulf was on his throne, advisors nearby, many at the long table. Vash approached, putting the table behind him, pulling his hood back. Muzgu left hers on. He knew they were surrounded, but felt no fear. Only the cold fires of rage burned in him.

'You wanted to speak with me,' he said.

'Archmage, yes,' said Brunwulf. He straightened in his throne and cleared his throat. He leaned forward and pointed at Vash, then clearly regretted the action and pulled it back. 'I understand that it is you I ought to speak to regarding the… tensions up at Narzulbur.'

'Well, at least he pronounced it correctly,' murmured Yanakh.

'I am Malacath's agent in Skyrim, yes,' said Vash.

A low murmur went around the room. Down the long table, disbelief passed from Nord to Nord. The looks towards Vash grew colder. The court mage in Windhelm, Wuunferth, came slowly up to stand beside his Jarl's throne.

'Vash, there's really no need for this,' he said.

'You may be right,' said Vash, not looking away from Brunwulf. 'It depends on what the Jarl has to say.'

Brunwulf cleared his throat again. 'Some of my people are concerned with—they are concerned with the recent fortifications going on at Narzulbur.'

'Are they.'

'Yes, they are. To some it appears as if the orcs are settling in for a siege. And as they are on my land, I… I demand an explanation.' Brunwulf spoke faster now, getting into the swing of things. There were a couple of shouts of support from the table. 'I have tolerated the absurd codes of the orcs as far as I can, but if they force my hand, I will act.'

'Your tolerance is an act,' said Vash. 'It is a coat you put on when you want the other holds to play nice.'

Brunwulf made a few incoherent noises of protest, then said, 'We allowed the Argonians and Khajiit inside the walls, just like every other—'

'That law came from the High Queen. It was put forward by the Dragonborn. Who was and remains a Thane of your hold. Who was and remains bloodkin of the orcs.' Another murmur, this one incredulous, went through the room, but Vash did not falter. 'You drag her legacy through the mud when you speak of our codes, when you speak of moving against us like we are some invading force, rather than people who bring gold to your coffers and meat to your table. I tell you this, Jarl Brunwulf Free-Winter, if you move against my people, if you'—he laughed a single dry note—'force my hand, then know that I will move against you.'

Some advisor, perhaps the housecarl, spoke up. 'Winterhold has no power, no armies to muster.'

'Not Winterhold,' said Vash. 'Not the College. Me.'

There was silence in the Palace of the Kings. Vash felt that he was made of magic and fire and anger, a tower that blazed with them. Perhaps there was something of it in his eyes, for Brunwulf had leaned back in his throne, as far from Vash as possible.

'This insult will not be borne,' someone started saying.

'I have actual important business to attend to,' said Vash. He inclined his head at Brunwulf. 'Good day, my lord, and good people of Windhelm.'

He turned and strode out of the Palace. Yanakh was keeping her expression still, but Muzgu was hiding a wide grin under her hood.

'Oh, they are really gonna hate this,' she said once they were outside.

Vash tried to hold onto his rage. Loud enough for the guards to hear, he said, 'We'd best get to Narzulbur. Ensure their walls are nice and thick.'