The trip to Deepwood Redoubt was a short, if circuitous one. The south route, across the mountain, was too steep for even Joslyn to consider, so they looped west and east to come at the Nordic ruins from the north. In the past it had been as glorious as Hag Rock or Lost Valley, thronging with Forsworn and hagravens, raining terror down on all the residents of the Reach nearby.
Joslyn led her gang up through the ruins and found them, at first, empty. She tried not to jump at the slightest noise, tried to let her body relax. But she felt that the whole Reach thrummed with tension—all it would take was an extra little piece of force to make it snap forth. She, of course, intended to provide that force.
Muriena kept close by her side and for this Joslyn was thankful. Briette too, seemed loyal, as did the warriors Mathane and Sabsa. They obeyed her terse instructions without objection, scouring the ruins methodically and carefully. But Gerrick was not so compliant.
"This is not the Forsworn way," he said, frowning.
"We are the Forsworn," said Joslyn. "Any way we follow is the Forsworn way."
He crossed his arms as they stood in an empty corridor in a ruin of empty corridors. "The Forsworn care not for planning," he said. "We win through the strength of our might."
"We tried that," said Joslyn. "And it got almost all of us killed. Now we do things my way."
Gerrick grunted, but made no further complaints. Deeper into Hag Rock, Joslyn tried not to show her disappointed face to her followers. But crouched over a bloody table in what, from memory, was the final room, were two hagravens. Their feathers were ragged and their features drawn, but their claws were still sharp and their movements swift. Both let out little screeches at the group's entry.
"The Forsworn!" said one.
"We knew you were not dead," said the other.
"We knew you would come," said one.
"We knew a leader would rise," said the other.
"And now here I am," said Joslyn. She gauged the reactions of the others. Muriena was watching her closely. Briette was peering off at an arcane enchanter in the corner. Mathane and Sabsa were not surprised, but Gerrick raised his voice.
"I thought you said Borkul was in charge," he said.
"He is," said Joslyn. "For now." She looked at the hagravens. "I have a plan, and your skills would be most appreciated."
"They are not to be ordered about!" exclaimed Gerrick. "They are to be respected and honoured."
"Silence," said one hagraven.
"Our plans align," said the other. "You seek vengeance."
"On the Dragonborn," said Joslyn. "Yes. You will aid us?"
"Lure her to Druadach," said one.
"Get her inside," said the other. "And when she comes out . . ."
"A trap," said Joslyn. As for getting the Dragonborn there, she'd already had a few ideas. Druadach Redoubt was the only place for it. The place where she'd slaughtered Madanach after their escape. The place where the Forsworn had lost their greatest leader. Until now. Until the Dragonborn's blood runs into the dirt and our rule begins in earnest.
The hagravens promised to meet Joslyn at Druadach, when she returned with the full Forsworn army in tow. But first she needed a way to bind Gerrick to her, to secure the loyalties of the others. The vote of the hagravens would do much for her, especially once she returned to contest Borkul, but a true victory would be even better. So far, their journey had been far too bloodless.
Joslyn stretched her mind out over the Reach. One defenceless locale stood out, free from Markarth guards, Imperial soldiers, and bandits. Old Hroldan Inn. A morale boost waiting to happen.
The sun was almost at its zenith when the Forsworn reached the Old Hroldan Inn. Joslyn crouched at the top of the hill to the north and observed the small building for a time. Muriena crept up next to her and whispered close to her ear. Joslyn felt a shiver ripple down her body at the soft sound.
"What exactly is there that we want in Old Hroldan?" she asked.
"A victory," Joslyn managed to say.
"So what was Broken Tower?" asked Muriena.
"Practice," spat Joslyn. "Bandits are butchered all the time. By guards, soldiers, adventurers. But an attack like this . . . this spreads fear. Shows the Reach that we're back."
Muriena nodded. "And the booze," she said.
Joslyn grinned. "Fuck yes," she said. "D'you know how many years it's been since I had a drink?" She fell silent and ducked down as a lone man emerged from the inn. He moved to the right and began to chop wood. He had not seen them.
"Can you hit him from here?" asked Joslyn.
Muriena put an arrow to her bow without answering. She rose, stretched her arm back—Joslyn admired the angle—and loosed. The arrow found itself jutting from the man's back. He collapsed forwards onto the chopping block. He thrashed his arms and struggled to rise. Muriena sent another arrow, close to his neck. The man turned over onto his back and saw them. Joslyn felt herself grinning as the man's eyes went wide. Yes. The Forsworn have returned. And your lives will never be the same.
He died, and Joslyn signalled the advance. Weapons drawn, the Forsworn descended on the Old Hroldan Inn. She had given orders for silence; something anathema to their traditional approach. To charge in blades twirling, yelling curses at the Nords. Joslyn knew that here, that approach could get them killed.
And their silence was successful: none came out to face them as they approached. Briette began weaving a fireball between her hands. Joslyn waved at Gerrick, who trod up to the door, kicked it open, then jumped to the side without entering. Briette loosed her fireball through the gap.
Yells and a high-pitched scream came from within. Joslyn pointed her axe towards the doorway. The moment to strike was now, when those inside were at their most confused. The Forsworn charged. Gerrick was first inside and took and arrow in his left shoulder. Joslyn deliberately slowed as she went up the stairs, letting Mathane and Sabsa overtake her.
Once inside, it became clear that the fireball had only done half the work. A small child and a member of the Blades lay dead, broken and burned. Joslyn had hoped there would be no trouble from the dragonhunters, but this was the closest inn to their base, it was only natural that they frequent it.
Gerrick was hacking at the hunter who'd loosed the arrow into his shoulder. Mathane hurdled the bar and went for the bartender. Sabsa cornered a travelling bard. That left the last Blade for Joslyn.
He was a huge Redguard, edging away from the rising flames. Her axe clattered harmlessly off his round steel shield. But his movements were hazy, and Joslyn realised he was drunk. She swung both her weapons at him and he flinched back, into the fire. Dancing away from the heat, he found only her axe and her sword waiting for him. Soon he was lying in blood like the others.
Joslyn looked around the inn. Not a single casualty! Gerrick had taken a cut to his side and Mathane's cheek was swiftly dripping blood, but these were things Muriena could patch up in mere moments. And seven corpses, inside the inn and out. With the force growing at Hag Rock, there were no limits to the chaos Joslyn imagined they could sow across the Reach.
The fire was spreading a little too quickly for her liking, however.
"Can you put this out?" she asked Briette. The Briarheart shook her head, eyes fixated on the flames. Joslyn wondered whether the woman merely did not want to, but there was no time to question her. Nor did she think she would have if there was; Briette was too important to get off-side.
Gerrick and Mathane were looting behind the bar, while the others watched Joslyn for orders.
"Take their clothes," she said. There was hesitation. She gestured with her axe. "Do it!"
Her Forsworn scrambled to pull the clothes from the bartender, hunter, and bard. Joslyn grabbed the leg of the Blade she had killed and dragged him outside. Swiftly she stripped him of his armour and found a sack to stuff it in. Singed badly, but it would serve. The others soon joined her with clothes rolled into tight balls. She added them to the sack and they looked at her expectantly. A leader does not explain. A leader orders, and is obeyed.
"We've made our point," she said. "Let's get out of here." Before the smoke brings a horde of Blades to investigate.
After they'd headed south-west across the river and were back in the relative safety of the wilderness, Joslyn addressed her gang of killers. She eyed with satisfaction the smoke billowing up from Old Hroldan.
"Forsworn!" she announced. "This was but our first victory! With the army that awaits us at Hag Rock, our reign shall extend across all of the Reach. There is much work in the days ahead. But for now . . ."
She held out a hand towards Gerrick. He went to hand her a single bottle, but she took the whole sack. The big man only laughed and Joslyn breathed an internal sigh.
"For now," she said, "I got some catching up to do."