Skyrim is the property of Bethesda Softworks. Ieago seems to have built himself quite a nest in the previous chapter. Let us hope he has the leadership necessary to keep too many people from having to lie in it.
Jarl Balgruuf summoned his thanes to the solar behind the throne before dawn. There he named us (Vignar Gray-Mane, Olfrid Battle-Born, and me) to First-Spear Centurion Quinten Cipius. The commander of the three centuries that garrisoned Fort Greymoor had ridden back with Irileth within hours of her departure. The others there at the meeting were Irileth, Hrongar, Commander Caius, and Proventus the Steward.
The Jarl leaned on the table and looked to Hrongar and me, "What news of Ulfric's army do you have?" He demanded.
"He has at least 7000 men and women," I told them, "All well-equipped. They have artillery in their train."
"Our scouts signal that Ulfric's army marches on the Eastmarch road. They're already in sight of the beacon at Guldun Rock," Hrongar informed his older brother.
"They're four days away with artillery!" Balgruuf breathed, "The walls are in bad enough shape as it is!" He turned on Centurion Cipius, "What can the Legion do?" He demanded.
The Centurion was not happy, "I will bring two centuries from Fort Greymoor's as soon as this meeting is over. That will be 200 men to add to your Commander's soldiers."
"That's only 900 men all told," Commander Caius said gloomily.
"I can bring five housecarls," Vignar said
"The same from me," Olfrid put in.
"I have three that I can speak for," I said, feeling deep embarrassment.
"What of the rest of your Legion Centurion?" Balgruuf asked.
"Ulfric's raiders and the Forsworn have us stretched thin," Centurion Cipius admitted. "At best General Tullius will be able to send five cohorts and they will need 20 days to get within striking distance of Whiterun."
"There's your Imperial friends Olfrid," Vignar sneered at his former friend, "Scarcely 2400 men and two weeks late. The Stormcloaks will breach the walls long before that."
"Enough. Both of you," I snapped. I turned back to the planning table, "It seems to me that we must delay and wound their army as much as possible on the road." I thought back to my many travels over the past year. "Centurion, if you were leading an army and the bridge over the White River was dropped in front of your face, how would you react?"
The Imperial officer considered for a minute, "Hmm... Placing one of our prefabricated bridges would be next to impossible in that rapid. The river flows too quickly there to safely ford either."
"And every bow we could draw would be pelting your engineers all the while," I continued.
"Yes. I would have to counter-march and take the road along the Yorgrim River," he said at last.
That was not what I expected. "That would require going almost all the way back to Windhelm. You couldn't go back to Valtheim Towers and march upstream? It's shallow there and the slope of the bank is not impassible," I pressed.
The Centurion shook his head, "Try to get an army to walk in the water and mud for miles? You'd lose one soldier in six to leg and foot injuries and have to leave behind everything you need to effect a proper siege.
"So four days to get to the bridge, six days back to the crossroads near Castle Morvunskar, and then eight or so to take the longer road up the Yorgrim Valley," I surmised.
"And then we would only be repelling the assaults for two days!" Commander Caius said excitedly, "All 7000 of them couldn't hit the gates at the same time. We could do this."
"What of your Companions, Harbinger?" Proventus asked, "500 warriors would be a welcome addition to our force."
"It has been our policy until now to not accept any job coming from the Empire or Stormcloaks or to support either side of this war. It has proved to be a good policy. So now I do not know," I admitted. "They are not bound to me by any oath. I have let it be known that those willing to follow me should assemble at Jorrvaskr today. All I ask is a totally free hand in deploying however many I get."
"That is easily granted Thane," Balgruuf said, "But how do you plan on destroying that bridge under the feet of the enemy?"
I smiled, "I know just the woman for the job," I said and went on to outline some of my plans.
A little before midday Vignar and I directed our steps from Dragonsreach to Jorrvaskr. "Why are you so eager to bring the Companions into the war?" he asked me as we climbed the stairs to the mead hall.
"I gave my reasons last night," I said as we entered the front doors and continued to the rear. "This is our Empire to fight for. And this is about honor: the Companions could never live down doing nothing while their city burned around them. We have no other options: either we help a good man keep his throne and get dragged into this war or we choke on the shame of doing nothing."
"They have no obligation to follow you to your war."
"Either way, I'm terrified of what I might find on the other side of this door," I replied.
Steeling myself, I opened the doors to the practice yard and renewed Aura Whisper. I found I stood before the Circle. They were flanked by my Housecarls, Morgan, and Ghent on the porch. The aura behind them brought tears to stain my blindfold.
Hundreds of men and women stood before me. In Aura Whisper, the crowd was a mix of nervousness and pride, but all 500 men and women stood unmoving before me. They were silent and anxious as if they thought I would command them to march on Windhelm that minute. That part of me who loved Kodlak and Skjor felt the two men turn over in their graves. I choked down the feeling that my pride was going to cost these people dearly and stepped into the shade of Jorrvaskr's awning.
I spent the rest of the day outlining my plan to the Companions, fighting them in the yard, and talking to Eorlund and the Circle about equipment.
"I'm not demanding a miracle, Eorlund. Just do what you can in the next twelve days."
The smith smiled ruefully, "You're going to work me into an early grave Harbinger," he said.
"You can die on day thirteen," I replied, "Just get as many of the Companions you can real equipment before we march north."
"You're absolutely sure you can do this?" I asked for what might have been the hundredth time.
"I am the mistress of boom," she replied, sounding irritated.
The four days were spent. The Jarl's men and the few legionnaires in the city had been working furiously to repair the city's crumbling fortifications. The smithies in town had been ringing continuously to arm the city's defenders. Hour by hour wagons delivered food and material within the walls. Work crews labored to clear the heaps of rubble and trash from the base of the outer wall. Every noncombatant down to children as young as eight practiced fire drills and finding the shelters that Dragonsreach and Jorrvaskr had become. I kept the Companions in the fields near the Honningbrew Meadery, training them ceaselessly to fight in a shield wall. That afternoon however, everyone stopped their labors to see the approaching army.
Ulfric's army made a bold sight in the midday sun on the broad road that wrapped around the base of the Throat of the World, just a few feet away from the trench of the White River on their right as they marched. In the world of the Aura Whisper, they were a slowly moving flame. A red and orange serpent of hostile intent that kicked up white sparks as lesser creatures scatted before the host.
I turned my attention to the bridge over the rapids. It was a broad stone arch, generations old. It was built without mortar in the Imperial style and was immovable by any force of nature.
"Red, are you..."
"Harbinger," Aela cut me off, "If you question her once more, I'll make you a part of the explosion."
An hour later, the van of the Stormcloak army was within yards of the bridge. I turned to speak to Red one more time, but when I did I saw that her aura was a rolling fire storm in the shape of a woman. Soon after, I heard her whisper those arcane non-words that always seem to accompany the most powerful of spells. The air around her shook violently in the world of the Aura Whisper, though mundane senses could not see it.
I turned back to the bridge. The first companies of soldiers were nearly across when Red at last unleashed her spell. The bed of the stream erupted beneath the bridge; sending a jet of steam, flame, and molten rock high into the air above the approaching army. The stones of the bridge were swept up into the pyroclastic gout and still the fissure in the stream issued flame. The form of a great bird appeared in the rising column of fire, steam, and magma. In fury it swept down on the front ranks of the rebel army like a wave breaking on the shore. The terror of the Stormcloaks in that moment was complete and radiated in my mental image of the world.
"The phoenix was a nice touch," I said into the silence of the departing army.
"I never dreamed I would get a chance to use that spell," Red replied.
"Alright," I said, "I'm going back to helping Eorlund. Those pommels won't bind themselves. Fantastic work Morgan."
Thanks to you all for reading. Thanks to Meyer331 for the feedback. Faves and follows keep me motivated, but constructive reviews are a huge help to the overall quality of the story.