Chapter Nine:

To High Hrothgar

I guess I woke up several hours later. There was no more sunlight outside, anyway. My head was spinning (not as much as before), and my throat hurt, but I was feeling better. I didn't feel like I was burning up, anyway.

Ugh, I thought, frowning, did I just have an allergic reaction to something? Mead? No, a few hours too late. Am I allergic to whatever that orange thing was? Can't be. It was more like a spirit—a soul. I'm pretty sure no one's ever been allergic to souls. Not that anyone's ever absorbed one, anyway. Was that even an allergic reaction? I was coughing up blood, for Talos' sake!

I put my thumb and forefinger on each of my eyes and took in a long gulp of air, slowly though. I rubbed them then, as I was trying to think. Firstly, I wasn't at the inn. I was still in Jorrvaskr. I remembered its musky smell. I was also lying in a large bed with a red quilt overtop of me, in a private room. Someone else's room.

I sat up and looked at the nightstand beside the bed. There was a tankard that had water in it. I guessed that they didn't have normal glasses. Hoping and praying it was for me, I downed the water in a matter of seconds and placed the tankard back on the nightstand.

"Looks like I was right in getting you something to drink."

I turned towards the doorway, suddenly on edge. An old man—well, not really old, more like aged. He wasn't that old—was standing in the doorway. He was wearing a type of armour that I hadn't seen before that vaguely resembled Imperial armour, but it wasn't red or brown, but silver and black. The man himself had white hair and a full white beard, and his eyes were a silver-white. He had a tattoo on the right side of his face, on his cheek, but it hadn't withered with age. His presence was commanding but calm. I could tell almost immediately that this man was a leader.

"My name is Kodlak Whitemane," the man said as he strode towards the bed. "I am the Harbinger of the Companions. Are you feeling all right?"

I nodded slowly. "I am... Thank-you, Kodlak. Where am I?"

"You're in my room, currently," he answered, sitting on my side of the bed, on the edge. "But you're still in the Jorrvaskr. You gave your friend quite a fright, young lady."

Milos! "Is Milos all right?" I asked, panicked.

"He's fine," Kodlak assured me, smiling. "Just worried about you. Do you know what happened?"

I furrowed my brow. "I started coughing blood after I wasn't feeling good."

"I heard you argue with Milos that you were fine." Kodlak's smile broadened.

I frowned at his teasing. "I wasn't feeling good, but I didn't want to admit it. I rarely ever get sick. I'm very good at resisting some diseases, because I've built up immunities over the years."

He nodded. "From what I gathered, it was a serious case of infection inside of your body from wounds that weren't properly healed, and as a result of over-exerting your body—by fighting a Dragon, no less—you collapsed from it. The blood was just a sign. I gave you some medicine I usually give to my fellow Companions whenever the same happens to them. You'll be fine, but you'll need to heal yourself more properly on the battlefield next time."

It made sense, but I was good at healing. I doubted that I could get such a simple thing wrong, but perhaps I had overlooked something in my confidence and caused it myself. I nodded at Kodlak's words in understanding.

"Thank-you, Kodlak," I said again. "How can I repay you?"

"First, you can tell me your name. I don't want to call you, 'You' if we should see each other again."

"Oh! Sorry!" I exclaimed. I grasped Kodlak's hand, which he had offered, and shook it as firmly as I could without seeming rude. "My name's Taryn. Taryn Greystone."

"That name resembles a Nord's name," Kodlak remarked. "Your last name, I mean."

"Well, it sounded nice at the time, so I took it." I shrugged. "What can you do? I was a child who liked to make names. Sue me."

Kodlak smiled. "The second thing you can do is take Hiemdall with you. I've given my permission for him to go. He's a true Nord, who wishes to take a Pilgrimage. I will not deny such a thing to anyone."

"I can definitely do that," I replied. "It'll be nice to have another blade with us. I mean, I'm not sure how long this'll take, but he's welcome all the same."

"Thank-you, Taryn." Kodlak stood. "Your friend Milos went to sell some things before the shops closed. He's probably with Hiemdall upstairs right now. I think you're well enough to start your journey."

I was out of the bed in an instant, grabbing my weapons that had been placed beside it and equipping them in their respective places. Kodlak was smiling at me in his chair by the door outside the room.

"Ah, to have that energy again..." I heard him remark.

"Thank-you, Kodlak!" I yelled back as I ran down the hall.

When I got to the top of the stairs in the Jorrvaskr, Milos and Hiemdall were having a few meads together, as was made evident by the few empty tankards on the table.

"Taryn!" Hiemdall exclaimed. "Why don't you join us?"

Milos stood up and strode towards me, stopping only a few inches away so he could grab my jaw and turn my head around again.

"Milos, I'm fine!" I said, brushing him off. "Kodlak helped me out. Don't worry; I'm healthy now."

Milos breathed a sigh of relief and hugged me. I hugged him back, just for good measure. "Listen to me next time, okay?"

I nodded and we released each other. Hiemdall was smiling at us.

"You like Imperials then, eh Milos?"

"Apparently so. I have one who's interested back in Riverwood," Milos quipped. I was surprised. Milos had acted coldly to Hiemdall before, but now he was being friendly. Then again, maybe it was the mead.

"Kodlak said I'm fine, so we can get going even now." I nodded to Hiemdall. "You included. You're still packed?"

"Of course I am!" Hiemdall had his pack on his back, and pointed at it to let me know. "We leave now, then?"

"Yep. Let's get moving!"

We exited the Jorrvaskr, with none of the other Companions in sight. Perhaps they were given a contract. But I supposed that Hiemdall had already said his good-byes to his fellows. The sun was hours past dusk, but we didn't mind. I guessed that Milos and Hiemdall were well-rested as well, and I could probably hire a wagon for us with what money I had.

We were at the stables in no time. Milos had returned my pack to me long before that, lighter than it had been hours ago. I was grateful for that, at least. We found a capable wagon that would fit us all with a man who probably did night-runs for a living, when people couldn't go in the daylight.

"Where's the closest place to the Throat of the World?" I asked Hiemdall as we approached the man.

"Ivarstead, I suppose," Hiemdall replied. "Helgen too, but I guess it's not really an option..."

I asked the driver to take us to Ivarstead. He had said that he didn't go there often, so I offered him twenty septims. He changed his tune quickly.

We climbed into the back of the wagon, and we were off. I was memorizing the countryside as we went, so if we couldn't get a wagon, we would at least know where we were going.

"So what's the story with you two?" Hiemdall asked as he leaned against the wagon and crossed his arms. "An Argonian and an Imperial traveling together should have some sort of interesting beginning, shouldn't it?"

"Well, Milos was an escaped prisoner, and I was to be his executioner," I lied casually, wondering if Hiemdall would buy it. "That was two years ago. He'd begged me, and asked if there was anything he could do to survive." I grinned as I realized Hiemdall was buying it. "So, I took him into my room—."

"I was a slave and Taryn bought me when we were seven, using the money that the Madame from the orphanage had given her for her debts to settle. Instead, she used the hag's money to buy me as I was about to die," Milos interrupted swiftly in an annoyed monotone.

Hiemdall tilted his head, as if he was trying to guess which one of our stories was the real one. "So, you were a slave...?"

"Not a sex slave like Taryn's spewing," Milos explained. "I was just a slave."

Hiemdall was laughing. Milos was not amused, but I knew that he'd come around eventually. I think I heard the driver snickering too.

We all rested our eyes for the next few hours, until the driver woke us up. He'd said that something was in the bushes, and he wasn't going to lose another cart because of a bear. I sighed and grabbed my bow, leaving the rest of my supplies in the wagon and telling the driver not to leave without us, since Milos and Hiemdall were coming with me.

Hiemdall, with his greatsword out, had a completely different demeanor about him. Instead of the slightly naїve, puppy-like Hiemdall, he was showing his Companion warrior side.

After a few minutes of searching, we gave up and started to head back to the wagon. It was probably a damned bunny, I thought. It can't have been anything else. This darkness wouldn't even hide a bear—.

Movement behind us. I whirled around and drew an arrow, nocking it into my bow, aiming at what I had heard. The sound was simply too loud for a rabbit.

A man, cloaked in black with red armour that looked light, ran at us with twin daggers unsheathed. He was a Dark Elf, and his hood was up so I couldn't see his eyes, but his expression told me all I needed to know. He was here for blood.

I loosed the arrow. He dodged it nimbly, surprising me, but Milos and Hiemdall weren't impressed. As if they'd fought together for years, they attacked in perfect synchronization, but the Dark Elf leapt past their blows and continued on to me.

"The Night Mother calls for your blood, Taryn Greystone!" he roared. "May the Void take your soul!"

I loosed another arrow, and this time he couldn't dodge. It slammed into his shoulder while Milos' foot connected with his back. The Dark Elf hit the ground on his stomach, Milos' and Hiemdall's blade cris-crossed above his neck. I kicked away the Dark Elf's daggers and aimed an arrow at his head.

"Who sent you?" I demanded.

The Dark Elf smiled at me. "A friend, Taryn Greystone."

"You'll have to be a bit more specific than that, assassin!" I growled.

"Not just any assassin," Milos rumbled. "A Dark Brotherhood assassin. Someone really wants you dead, Taryn. These guys rarely fail these days."

"And I've never failed a mission until now," the assassin boasted. "Strange. I could have killed you all easily, but, somehow, you've bested me."

"Well, I like to call it luck," I told him. "Who sent you?"

The assassin hesitated. "I've no contract of silence with him," he finally said. "His name is Arnand Bienne. He wanted me to ask you if the name rang a bell for you, Taryn Greystone."

I froze, my blood running cold in my veins. My knuckles were white as I tightened my grip on the bow. The assassin grinned as he saw my reaction.

"So, it seems to ring many bells." He snickered. "Then you know why I was sent after you."

Milos looked at me with confidence. "We can end him now, Taryn. Just say the word."

"It won't matter if I die," the assassin drawled on. "Another will take my place, and I will take mine at the side of Sithis!"

I crouched and looked the Dark Elf in his blood-red eyes, now that his hood wasn't covering them. "Do you know where Arnand is?" I asked him.

"No. The Night Mother simply got the request, and as her Listener, I carried out her orders." The assassin grinned. "Disappointed?"

"Not at all. If he thinks you've failed, then he'll either give up on me, or try to find me."

"So you're going to kill me then?"

After a few seconds, I shook my head. "No."

"I will attempt to kill you until I succeed or I am dead."

"I'll tell you what; come with us for a while. I think I'll need another blade along with us." I stood up. "I'm sparing your life, so you owe me that debt. Once all this is over—whatever I'm getting myself into—I will release you from your debt, and you can try to kill me again."

The Dark Elf was smiling. "You aren't worried I'll slit your throat in the night? Or stab you in the back while it's turned?"

"Not while these two massive mountains of muscle are with me," I quipped, pointing at Hiemdall and Milos, with the latter rolling his eyes.

He broadened his smile. "Very well, Taryn Greystone. I accept. I will serve you as faithfully as I do the Night Mother until you release me from my debt, once it is repaid. My brothers and sisters will also aid you, should you require their assistance."

I nodded to Hiemdall and Milos, and they removed their blades. I offered my hand to the Dark Elf.

"You know my name, so its only fair you tell me yours," I said.

"I am Aldren Ebor," the assassin replied, taking my hand to get to his feet, "Listener for the Dark Brotherhood."

Needless to say, when we got back to the wagon, the driver was surprised that we'd picked up a new friend... if Aldren could even be called that. He was more of an ally.

We continued on our journey to Ivarstead, resting our eyes once more, despite how Aldren said he was staying up (I hoped that he wouldn't try to slit Hiemdall or Milos' throats...).

My fears, however, were unfounded. We reached Ivarstead by the next morning, just before the dawn, and grabbed our things off the wagon, bidding the driver a good-bye.

I craned my neck to gaze at the mountain called the "Throat of the World". It was larger than even the White Gold Tower in Cyrodiil!

"So then, what are we doing here?" Aldren asked, ensuring that his hood covered his eyes. "Are you trying to complete a Pilgrimage?"

"I am," Hiemdall admitted. "But these two are going to see the Greybeards."

Aldren's curiosity was piqued. "Greybeards? This wouldn't have anything to do with the Greybeards' summons, would it? You could hear that all over Skyrim!"

I laughed weakly. "W-Well... it may have something to do with that. We're not quite sure yet. This journey is more to... confirm something."

Aldren shrugged and said nothing more. At least he was a quiet one. He would probably get annoyed with the three of us soon enough.

I looked down at a step on the mountain and sighed. "Seven-thousand bloody steps..." I grumbled. "Well, we'll start with one."