CHAPTER FIVE
Greeta met Hrongar at the stables. He had arrived before her and had the horses saddled.
"Hey sleepy head, about time you got up." Hrongar teased.
"Sleepy head? The sun's barely up!" Greeta piped back with a laugh.
Greeta strapped her gear onto her horse. When the two had mounted up, Greeta kicked her horse into a run and yelled back, "Catch me if you can!"
"Hey!" Hrongar shouted and took off after her.
He caught up with her halfway to the bridge. They both slowed to a walk.
Hrongar growled, "What in Sovngarde was that?"
"Just a little something to get your blood pumping, old man."
"Old man! Why I ought to bend you over my knee for that!" Hrongar said indignantly. But just the thought of it sent his blood pumping somewhere else, causing him to shift in the saddle.
"Loosen up Hrongar, I'm just joking."
"Maybe you're right. I've been shut in Dragonsreach too long. This trip maybe just what I need."
That was the real reason he'd been up so early. He was looking forward to traveling and maybe getting to know Greeta better. Her beauty along with her apparent fighting skills intrigued him.
"So Greeta, tell me, where are you from exactly?"
"I used to live on a small farm at the edge of Falkreath Hold, near the border of Skyrim."
"What do you mean by 'used to'?" Hrongar asked.
"My family's farm was sacked by bandits awhile back. I was out hunting game. My mother and younger brother stayed behind. I saw the smoke on my return. When I got to the farm, two bandits were running away. I found my mother and brother dead, but they had taken three bandits out before they died."
"What of your father?" Hrongar pried a little further.
"He died fighting in the Great War. I would have followed his footsteps, but he told me he needed me to stay and protect the family while he was gone."
"I see." Hrongar stated.
Greeta was filled with Nordic pride when she spoke of her father. "He was a great warrior!" she declared.
"He was the one who taught you to fight, was he not?"
"Aye, I made sure to practice daily to hone my skills an do him proud."
"I'm sure you have." Hrongar said. "You have killed a dragon already. How did you end up in Whiterun?"
"I tracked the bandits who had murdered my family to the border of Skyrim. While they made camp I took them by surprise and killed the bastards. It was a glorious day! After that I started back and ran into some Legionaries. I guess they thought I looked suspicious. They arrested me and threw me into a cart with the Stormcloak prisoners."
"Damn Stormcloaks, I'd run a blade through everyone of them if I got the chance!" Hrongar bellowed.
"That's how I ended up in Helgen waiting for the headsman. They didn't have me charged with anything but the Captain, trying to impress General Tullius, sent me to the block anyway."
"I am sorry for that. Unfortunately, some soldiers look for glory more than actual justice." Hrongar apologized. "So how did you get free?"
"The dragon attacked right before the headsman's axe came down on my neck. Everyone panicked. Hadvar, who was with the Captain when she ordered me to the block, cut me loose and told me to follow him if I wanted to get out alive. So I did. We went to Riverwood to his uncle's house and that's when they asked me too come to Whiterun to tell Jarl Balgruuf to send aid back to Riverwood."
"I assume that's how Ulfric got free as well." Hrongar surmised.
"Yeah, Ulfric and his men ran while the Empire was trying to protect the citizens of Helgen." Greeta explained.
"So much for his being for the sons and daughters of Skyrim bullshit. He ran to save his own hide." Hrongar smirked.
"Pretty much, if he really tried, he probably could have killed General Tullius and Elenwen amid the chaos." Greeta stated. "If it hadn't been for the dragon, Ulfric would be dead with his head on a pike and the Rebellion over."
Hrongar and Greeta had reached Valtheim Towers. They stopped up short when they heard a voice yell "Halt."
"You'll have to pay the toll to continue. Two hundred gold." A bandit demanded.
"We'll do no such thing!" Hrongar growled. Pulling his dagger, he threw it at the bandit and hit him in the chest." Want to go clean out some bandits?" He asked Greeta as he dismounted.
"Gladly." She said.
Hrongar unsheathed his weapon and Greeta readied her bow. Slowly, they entered the towers. Hrongar killed the bandit on the second level quickly. As they started across the bridge, an arrow whizzed by. A bandit was on the opposite cliff shooting at them. Another one was rushed toward them from the other tower.
"I've got the archer; you take care of the other." Greeta ordered.
"I got it." Hrongar said.
Greeta aimed at the archer on the far bank and let loose an arrow with the fury of a god. It hit its mark, causing the bandit to stumble and fall to the river below. While Greeta killed the archer, Hrongar clashed with the other bandit. The force of the crash knocked the bandit back and taking the advantage, Hrongar hit him in the gut with his battleaxe. The force of the strike picked the bandit up a foot and spilt his guts all over the bridge. Hrongar threw the bandit off the bridge and they entered the second tower to finish off another bandit.
"You're damn good with that battleaxe." Greeta praised Hrongar.
"You're a pretty good shot yourself." He returned. "I'd gladly fight by your side."
"And you as well." Greeta said, clapping him on the shoulder.
Hrongar retrieved his dagger from the first bandit and wiped the blood on the dead man's fur armor. Mounting up they continued onto Darkwater Crossing where they planned to camp for the night. Greeta killed two wolves from her horse further down the road, earning more of Hrongar's respect for her skills. The rest of the way was clear of trouble. They reach their campsite around sundown. Hrongar picked a spot closer to the water and away from the miner's tents.
"If you will take care of the horses, I'll fix supper." Greeta offered.
"That sounds good to me." Hrongar agreed.
He staked the horses some distance away, then unpacked and watered them. Greeta started a fire and began preparing a stew. Admiring her figure and beautiful face, Hrongar wondered what bedding her would be like, and he felt his manhood awaken.
"Food's ready!" Greeta called, snapping him back from his lusty thoughts. He walked over to the campfire. When the aroma of the stew hit his nostrils, his belly growled loudly.
"You sound like a starving bear." Greeta teased. She handed him a bowl, letting her eyes linger on him a little more than she should. He was a good looking man she thought, a strong, fierce fighter. She averted her face, but not before he caught the look of desire in her eyes.
"So what are you thoughts on the war?" Hrongar asked, trying to ease the awkward situation.
"Well, it's complicated." She said. "I understand why the Stormcloaks feel like they do. They feel betrayed by the Empire for the White-Gold Concordat. I did as well at first. My father died fighting for the Empire and it felt as though they just spit in the face of all those who died. So the Stormcloaks are justified in that."
"I agree. We all feel that way I think."
"But after I really studied on it I realized it was the only choice the Empire had at the time. We had taken a great loss of men and supplies. The Concordat would give us time to recover, rebuild, and gather more men. Titus Meade had no intention of enforcing the Talos Ban, as long as he wasn't worshipped openly, but when Ulfric started making waves, the Thalmor came down on us hard. To make matters worse, he unfairly challenged Torygg. Torygg was young and inexperienced, but he couldn't refuse because it was done openly. If Ulfric had been smart and not let his temper get the best of him, the Thalmor wouldn't be in Skyrim hauling off our people. He wasn't thinking that once we recover from the Great War, we could crush the Aldmeri Dominion. Instead, we are wasting precious soldiers and supplies fighting among ourselves."
"I like the way you think." Hrongar said.
"As for the matter of High King," Greeta continued. "Neither Elisif nor Ulfric are fit. Ulfric is too temperamental to be diplomatic, too short sighted. Elisif is just a girl with no experience but playing the pretty arm candy of the High King."
"Hmm, that's an interesting point." Hrongar mused. "Who do you think should be High King?"
"It has to be someone who is level-headed, good at diplomacy, and understands the needs of Skyrim and her people. All of them, not just us Nords." She explained.
"You really studied about this." Hrongar assessed. "That shows you have real intelligence."
"Thank you." Greeta said.
"We better bed down. Morning will be here soon enough." Hrongar told Greeta.
Greeta tossed another log in the fire, and then slipped into her bedroll. Hrongar checked the horses once more, and then laid down in his bedroll. He fell asleep to thoughts of the dark haired, blue eyed woman laying across from him.