Chapter Eight:

Call of the Greybeards

My leg was feeling better by the time we made it to the stables, and the bruises would wear off, so I thanked both Milos and Hiemdall and walked on my own. But both of them were following me. It wasn't Milos I was very concerned about; it was more Hiemdall.

"Did you need something?" I asked Hiemdall as we made it to the city gates.

"Well, I am heading this way."

"Oh." I cleared my throat. "What are the Companions?"

Hiemdall smiled. "Well, first, where are you from?"

"Cyrodiil."

"Then we're a lot like your Fighter's Guild," he told Milos and I. "We take contracts and do what we're told, and get paid for it. But the Companions are different. We still follow many of the teachings of Ysgramor and his five-hundred Companions, so we're high on tradition. Where the Jorrvaskr is based is no coincidence; Jeek of the River broke off from the Circle of Captains and brought some Companions with him to settle in Skyrim, as Ysgramor ordered. The Jorrvaskr was on a mountain, and the city of Whiterun sprouted around it. We've adapted and learned.""

"That's interesting," I commented. "I really should study on the history of Skyrim sometime. I don't know much about this place."

"Well, I only really know about the Companions. It's what I'm good at, so its what I do." Hiemdall nodded. "Anyway, we're at the Jorrvaskr. I'd better get back before Kodlak notices that I've been gone. He may have a contract for me."

Hiemdall bid us good-bye and sprinted up the steps to the Jorrvaskr before I could thank him for helping me out. I frowned at that.

"The roof of the Jorrvaskr..." Milos was smiling. "It's a Nordic longboat."

I laughed. "That it is! Now, we'd better hurry. I don't think that staring at the roof of that thing is going to get us any closer to the Jarl."

We traveled slowly up the steps to Dragonsreach so my leg wouldn't decide that it didn't feel like working, but we continued at our usual pace once we were crossing the bridge to the massive double-doors.

"Good. You're finally here," Proventus Avenicci said as we entered. "The Jarl's been waiting for you."

We followed Proventus up the steps to the Jarl's throne, where the Jarl was in a heated discussion with a man with a greatsword strapped to his back. When the Jarl saw us, he ended his discussion with the man, and the man forced himself to bow and walk away.

"So what happened at the watchtower?" the Jarl asked. "Was the Dragon there?"

Obviously, Irileth hasn't arrived yet...

"The watchtower was destroyed," Milos told the Jarl promptly, "but we killed the Dragon."

"I knew I could count on Irileth!" the Jarl said, a smile at his lips. "But there must be more to it than that."

I cleared my throat hesitantly. "Erm... Turns out I may be something called 'Dragonborn'."

The Jarl leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. "Dragonborn?" he repeated slowly. "What do you know about the Dragonborn?"

"That's just what the men called me."

The Jarl shook his head. "Not just the men. The Greybeards seem to think the same thing."

Greybeards? Hiemdall mentioned them. "The Greybeards? Who are they?"

"Masters of the Way of the Voice," the Jarl answered readily. "They live in seclusion high on the slopes of the Throat of the World."

"What do the Greybeards want with Taryn?" Milos asked, though it seemed more like a demand.

"The Dragonborn is said to be uniquely gifted in the Voice—the ability to focus your vital essence into a Thu'um, or Shout." Balgruuf looked at me. "If you really are Dragonborn, they can teach you how to use your gift."

"Didn't you hear the thundering sound as you returned to Whiterun?" the man who had been conversing with the Jarl asked. "That was the voice of the Greybeards, summoning you to High Hrothgar! This hasn't happened in... centuries, at least. Not since Tiber Septim himself was summoned when he was still Talos of Atmora!"

"Hrongar, calm yourself!" Proventus interjected. "What does any of this Nord nonsense have to do with our friend here? Capable as she may be, I don't see any signs of her being this, what, 'Dragonborn'."

"Nord nonsense?" Hrongar thundered. "Why you puffed-up, ignorant...! These are our sacred traditions that go back to the founding of the First Empire!"

"Hrongar, don't be so hard on Avenicci," Balgruuf said.

"I meant no disrespect, of course," Proventus added.

Kiss-ass, I thought with a frown. It looked like Milos was thinking the same.

"It's just that... what do these Greybeards want with her?" Proventus continued, ignoring the look I was giving him.

"That's the Greybeards' business, not ours," Balgruuf told Proventus. He looked at Milos and I again. "Whatever happened when you killed that Dragon, it revealed something in you, and the Greybeards heard it. If they think you're Dragonborn, who are we to argue? You'd better get up to High Hrothgar immediately. There's no refusing the summons of the Greybeards. It's a tremendous honor." He smiled. "I envy you, you know. To climb the seven-thousand steps again... I made the pilgrimage once, did you know that?"

"Seven-thousand steps?" I exclaimed, unable to contain my surprise.

The Jarl continued on, as if I hadn't interrupted him. "High Hrothgar is a peaceful place. Very... disconnected from the troubles of this world. I wonder that the Greybeards even notice what's going on down here. They haven't seemed to care before. No matter. Go to High Hrothgar. Learn what the Greybeards can teach you."

I sighed, suddenly wishing I was facing a wall that I could repeatedly hit my head against. Milos smiled at me, pitifully.

"Before you leave..." the Jarl said, "by my right as Jarl, I name you both Thanes of Whiterun. It's the greatest honor that's within my power to grant. I assign you Lydia as a personal Housecarl. She will stay here, until you decide to purchase a home in this city, then she will be waiting for you there, unless you so choose to bring her with you on your journeys. I'll also notify my guards of your new title. We are honored to have you both as Thanes of our city."

We thanked the Jarl and left almost immediately. Days ago, I had planned to flee to Skyrim and keep a low profile. It seemed that I was doing anything but. I'm leaving a trail even the stupidest of mudcrabs could find, I thought miserably. Thane of Whiterun... Not on my "to-do" list of this lifetime.

Milos opened the doors to Dragonsreach, and we were standing outside, taking in the scenery of the city, just for a breath of fresh air.

"Well, if getting titles was this easy in Black Marsh, I'd be the damn King by now," Milos remarked. "But I can settle with Thane of Whiterun."

I shivered as I leaned against the railing of the bridge. I hated titles. Titles made people turn into brown-nosers like Proventus Avenicci. They hurt people more than help them. I'd hated the Count of Anvil for flaunting his wealth every holiday and weekend. Back when the Hero of Kvatch was alive, Countess Umbranox had been fair with the people of County Anvil. When I was young, I had wished desperately that her lessons would suddenly rub-off onto the Count, but it was a child's wish, and nothing more.

"Hey, is that Hiemdall?"

I looked at the front of the bridge. Hiemdall was approaching us, a bag on his back along with his greatsword.

"I hate to bother you again," he said, "but I was hoping I could come with you. Before you ask, I already told you I have friends in the guard, and word travels faster than a wildfire around here. You're going up the seven-thousand steps to High Hrothgar. I haven't made the Pilgrimage yet, and I want to come. Better to travel in company, right?"

He seemed pretty set in the decision to join us. I looked at Milos, who in turn, look at me. "Fine," I told him. "But does your leader—Kodlak, was it? —know you're coming with us, or even going anywhere?"

His eyes widened. "Oh crap! I forgot to tell him, I was so focused on hurrying to I could catch you before you left!"

"Well, you'd better go tell him—."

"He'll want to meet you both, to make sure I'm in good company, you see," Hiemdall interrupted. "He's like a father to all of us, so he usually wants to know we're taken care of."

"Erm... okay?"

"C'mon! I'll take you to him!" Hiemdall grabbed my wrist and started to drag me there. I felt like he was some sort of an energetic little puppy, and Milos and I would be more than exhausted each night with him around. Still, I figured it'd be nice to have an extra weapon on our side. "He's just in the Jorrvaskr."

We climbed the steps to the upside-down longboat, and Hiemdall opened a door inside. It was spacious, with a fireplace in the centre and a table almost completely surrounding it. I recognized Aela, who had been fighting the giant, and the other two who had been with her.

I didn't know why, but I suddenly felt extremely sick.

Hiemdall led us to the Jorrvaskr's right and down some steps into the lower-level. I noticed that Aela, the man who'd been fighting the giant, and another man who resembled the first, were following us curiously. I was starting to feel a little sicker, but I shook my head and brushed it off.

Milos, however, noticed. I sometimes had to curse how good he was at noticing that something was wrong with me.

"Hiemdall, stop for a moment," he said to the young Nord. "Taryn, are you okay?"

I nodded, ignoring my burning forehead. "Yep. Totally fine. Let's go."

"Yeah, that was convincing. So much for being a merchant later in life," Milos rumbled. "Here; sit on this bench. You look a little pale."

"Milos, I'm fine!" I argued. "You don't have to baby me!"

"I wouldn't have to if you would just admit that you're not well and need a rest." Milos forced me to sit on a bench in front of a table, laden with food. He put his scaly hand on my forehead, and then examined my face by grabbing my jaw and turning my head. "Cough," he ordered when my head was turned to the side.

"I don't see how that'll—."

"Cough," Milos repeated, forcefully this time.

I frowned and coughed for him, into the nook of my elbow for hygenical reasons. "How was that?"

Milos was frowning as much as his lizard head would allow. "Not good. After this, we'll stop at the inn. We're not traveling if you're not feeling well."

"I said I'm fine, Milos." I stood up a bit too fast and felt a bit dizzy, but I ignored it so I wouldn't hear any smart remarks from Milos. "Let's just get this over with."

I coughed into my elbow again as we walked down the hall. And then again. And again. I wasn't forcing it. If anything, I was trying to force it back.

Argh! Why am I getting sick? I'm perfectly healthy! This makes absolutely—absolutely—no—!

This time, I coughed, and it felt like I was hacking out a lung. When I brought my elbow away from my mouth, I saw blood.

Oh shit.

Milos was the first to grab me before I fell flat on my face. I kept coughing, and the blood wasn't stopping. I wasn't exactly sure what was happening, in my body, or out. Milos was yelling something to Hiemdall, who in turn was yelling at Aela. That was all I was capable of understanding, at the moment.

I suddenly felt so weak that I had to close my eyes. Milos had used one of his clawed fingers to keep them open, but they hurt a lot. I remembered telling Milos to let me sleep, and then I couldn't see a thing.