17

"I guess my first question would be: Why aren't you in prison?"

We had been walking for almost an hour, making small talk about our mission and what might happen at the fort while we were gone, before Reinhardt finally got around to interrogating me. I praised him for his patience, and took my time answering as we crested the next hill and walked down into a snowy valley.

The tall fir trees towered over us, their branches weighed down with snow. For every foot of elevation we climbed, there seemed to be another two inches of snow on the ground, and I wondered if we should have brought snow shoes with us. Fortunately, Reinhardt seemed to know a narrow path along the edge of the ridge, where the blowing wind kept the snow from piling up, so we rarely had to walk through snow deeper than the top of our boots. And although the sun shining down on us felt warm, I knew that as soon as night fell, the temperatures out here would drop well below freezing.

"I'm sorry," I said absentmindedly. "Did you say something?"

"Yes," Reinhardt said. "How did you get out of prison?"

I shrugged. "They let me go."

"I find that pretty hard to believe."

"Doesn't make it any less true," I said. I took a deep breath and exhaled steam, looking at the low mountain peaks just north of us. The brisk walk, the bright blue sky, and the cold wind lifted my spirits a little.

"They just opened up your cell one day and set you free?" Reinhardt asked. "Maybe if you were a pickpocket or a vagrant, I might believe you. But I'm pretty sure that they don't let enemies of the empire just walk away from a lifetime prison sentence for no reason."

"They had a reason," I explained vaguely, "although I have to admit I don't understand it. They dropped me off in Vvardenfell and told me to deliver a package to someone, and then sent me on my way. I think some wealthy nobleman intended to use me as a pawn in some political game. That's the only thing I can think of."

"Well, if you had escaped from prison, you certainly wouldn't have wound up here on Solstheim, so I guess I have to believe you. You were imprisoned in Cyrodiil, correct?"

I nodded. "For three years."

"Well, I hope you delivered the package, at least."

"I certainly did. Right into a garbage can the moment I was out of sight. I have no desire to be an errand girl for a bunch of Morrowind bureaucrats."

Reinhardt laughed softly at that. For a few moments, the only sound was our boots crunching through the snow and the clink of Reinhardt's scabbard bouncing against his thigh.

"So how did you know?" I asked.

"How did I know what?"

"Who I was."

It was Reinhardt's turn to shrug and act vague. "Lucky guess, I suppose," he said, rubbing his chin with a gloved hand. "A young Nord woman named Sasha, good with a sword, about the right age, claims to be from Skyrim, but mysterious about her background. I honestly didn't know for sure until you reacted so clearly to the name Snow-Crown. Even then, I almost didn't believe it."

"So what convinced you?"

"The fight with those berserkers yesterday. The throwing knives."

I nodded, annoyed at myself for being obvious about it. Falling into my old habits would only make it easier for someone like Reinhardt to figure out who I was. Accuracy with throwing knives was a rare ability, so my skills would be noticed.

"Well, thanks for not telling anyone at the fort," I said.

"You're welcome. Did you think I was going to?"

"I don't know. You might have figured they would reward you for giving them valuable information like that."

"Don't you trust me?"

"There's trust, and then there's trust," I said. "There are very few people that I really trust. No offense, but so far you aren't one of them. Besides," I added bitterly, "I've trusted the wrong people before, and I paid the price for it."

"I've heard the story about what happened," Reinhardt said. "So it's true that one of your own men turned traitor, and that's how you got captured?"

"Yes," I answered.

"Can I ask you another question?" Reinhardt said.

"I guess."

"You told me that were trying to head back to Skyrim. You weren't planning on going back to your old ways, were you?"

I shook my head. "No, that part of my life is over. I just wanted to go home."

"Okay, good," Reinhardt said, visibly relieved. "I was afraid you were planning to go to war again."

"No," I said, looking out into the distance. "It was always my father's war, not mine. I fought the war for him. But I don't have to do that anymore. My father is dead."