Chapter Fifty-Two:

In Wake of the Massacre

Delphine had made it clear that unless Paarthurnax was dead, we wouldn't receive any aid from the Blades. Firstly, it annoyed me. Secondly, it confused me. She'd stated that emperors had protected Paarthurnax beforehand, and the Blades had previously been the emperor's bodyguards. The Septim line had carried within them the Dragon Blood that enabled them to wear and wield the Amulet of Kings, the symbol of the Empire. So, shouldn't the Blades have abandoned the emperors of old if they were protecting Paarthurnax, like I was?

We left soon after my "discussion" with them, and while I was sad to say farewell to Esbern, as far as I was concerned Delphine could skip all the way to Oblivion alongside Alduin, giggling and looking forward to eternal suffering of the soul (which would be mediocre compared to what I'd have in store for her, if I was a little more short-tempered). From Sky Haven Temple we followed trails and blazed them straight to Solitude. We had enough gold to stay at the Winking Skeever for the night (thanks to Cha'qim eavesdropping on my conversation with the Blades, and her initiative that Delphine's coin purse was a little too heavy), so we made plans on the way to Solitude for who would bunk where, as well as our back-up plans if anything went awry.

It was dark by the time we arrived in the capital of Skyrim, but thankfully the Skeever still had its rooms open to us. The innkeeper, Corpulus Vinius, an Imperial with red-blonde hair and a pale complexion as well as trademark Imperial dark eyes, was more than happy to rent us the rooms, although he appeared a bit perplexed with the amount of people. Of the two rooms we could rent, Hiemdall, Aldren, Javin and Eduard stayed in one. Milos, Cha'qim and I stayed in the other, and although Hiemdall wasn't exactly thrilled to share a space with Eduard (neither was the latter), he'd tolerate it because I'd already volunteered to switch (Milos snored a lot).

Bright and early the next morning, I was strapping on the guildsman armour Cha'qim had gotten for me days, maybe even weeks ago. If I could make a meeting with General Tullius fast, it'd only take us two nights to make our way to Windhelm to speak with Ulfric. And considering what I knew about Tullius (from the brief introduction we'd had in Helgen), I had a feeling that he was a true soldier and not just a man appointed to the position. He'd be an early riser, that was certain.

I stepped quietly out of the room (Cha'qim was still fast asleep. She'd returned to the room late at night, likely either staking out homes or actually going through their valuables, because the coin we'd "acquired" from Delphine had somehow doubled in size) and peered over the balcony into the tavern area. I was looking forward to eating something I hadn't cooked for myself for once. I spotted Milos and Hiemdall downstairs enjoying each other's company with cups of goat's milk and hot breakfast. Honestly, I really had to tear my eyes off the food just to take the normal route down the stairs rather than leap over the balcony and cause a crisis in the place.

"Taryn!" Hiemdall greeted, spotting me first as I strode over. "Care to join us?"

"We were just talking about the war," Milos explained, gesturing to a seat that I took. "We've been hearing about some sort of a massacre at Karthwasten. It's a small town in the Reach," he added, taking a long drag of his drink as he finished.

"What happened there?" I asked curiously.

Hiemdall crossed his arms. This was clearly a subject he wasn't too happy about. "Ulfric did," he declared. "The Jarl decided to send almost an entire legion of men to the Reach in the hopes they could reclaim it. An Imperial patrol was making rounds near the village. When they caught sight of the Stormcloaks, instead of running, the soldiers engaged the Jarl's men."

"A few innocent people were caught in the crossfire, too," Milos put in. "Some were slaughtered just because they were Imperials. Others were because they were condemned as 'traitor Nords'."

My brow furrowed. "But we were just in the Reach..."

"This was a few days ago. We're only just hearing about it because a soldier managed to survive drag his bloody body back to Haafingar," Hiemdall said. "Tullius just sent criers around town and has some men announcing the names of the dead. More than a few were from Solitude."

I shook my head, my eyes shut tightly. "Gods... And what about Markarth? Was it taken?"

"No." Milos dragged one of his claws against the wooden tabletop with enough force that it made sound, but didn't leave a mark. "Stormcloaks pillaged around the countryside for a while, since their commanding officers were killed. A few tried bolder measures and attempted to force some women to lay with them. Lucky that Skyrim's like it is, or those females wouldn't have had blades to defend themselves."

"They'd be like dainty noblewomen back in the Imperial City," I agreed. "I hope I can at least still speak with the general. Karthwasten is important, but this summit needs to happen to give these poor people a break. You'd think Ulfric, who holds his head so high a bird might shit in his mouth, would actually care about his people..."

"He claims he does," Hiemdall grumbled. "Personally, I liked Torygg. Met him a few times when he wanted to meet with Kodlak. He was young and quite impressed with feats that any Companion could perform, but he also valued Kodlak's counsel." Sighing, Hiemdall continued, "Kodlak wanted us Companions to stay out of the war. I know Aela disagrees, though I'm not too sure whose side she'd join. Admittedly, probably the one that inflicts the most bloodshed. But I told her the last time we were in Whiterun that I was honouring Kodlak's decision. He was wiser than I. I think I might learn from his example, even though he's passed."

"You could just order her to keep her nose out of the war," Milos pointed out.

"That's not the Harbinger's job. We're respected for our advice and our counsel. If we make a decision, it's more of a suggestion, actually. The Companions can choose to go against it, but because of the respect the position grants, they rarely do. Regardless, innocent people are dead. Soldiers are dead." Hiemdall looked pointedly at me. "We need this peace summit, and we need it immediately. I don't want to see any more fall at the hands of greed and order."

Milos nodded his agreement. "There has to be an end to this stupidity..."

I stole a piece of toast from Milos' plate. "Mhm. Now you guys go back to your deep conversation. I have a date with a general."

"In that?" Hiemdall raised an eyebrow. "Taryn, are you trying to make the poor old man work for it?"

"If I had to walk from High Hrothgar to Solitude in only a few days, Tullius can keep his eyes on my face while I'm giving him a special visit," I quipped, and then gently smacked Hiemdall upside the head. "Watch it, buddy. You're almost acting jealous."

"Jealous? To the Dragonborn? Please. I would prefer my arms remain attached firmly to my body."

"That's not the only thing you want to keep attached," Milos added with a smug grin.

Hiemdall laughed heartily and connected his cup with Milos'. "Now, what were you saying about Camilla of Riverwood...?"

I left them to their talks and strode out of the Winking Skeever into the brisk morning air. There was certainly less people out since I'd visited last (which had been during that execution before leaving for the Thalmor Embassy). With news of the massacre, as well as the recent developments with the Dragons (not to mention the war), people weren't too inclined to leave their homes for any lingering strolls within their city. I couldn't imagine how people without walls to defend them felt.

Too bad Dragons can fly over these things, I thought while I admired the grey stone walls of Solitude and bit into my toast.

I had to step out of the way for a patrol of Imperial soldiers to march by and up to Castle Dour. I followed them slowly while finishing my toast. It reminded me of Anvil, although with less soldiers, so I stayed in the courtyard of Castle Dour to watch them train with the dummies and the straw bales. Everything was uniform and disciplined, even with the commanding officer barking at them.

When I finished eating, I stretched and made for the place I assumed Tullius would be, which was guarded by a pair of the stoic and unwavering Penitus Oculatus, and two other Imperial soldiers. They eyed my approach, and when I got close enough, they halted me altogether.

"Sorry miss," one of the bodyguards said, "but General Tullius is in talks with Legate Rikke. He's not to be disturbed."

"But—!"

"Good day," he dismissed me.

I frowned and crossed my arms. "You're not even gonna hear what I have to say?"

"You're a citizen of the Empire and you need to leave the general to deal with the rebellion rather than your petty complaints," the bodyguard responded, obviously annoyed with me. Good. Let him be annoyed. "Please take your business elsewhere before I have you escorted to our dungeon."

"What I have to say could be important. But you've got your nose so far in the clouds that you're not even going to consider what I have to say because I don't look official."

"I know you look like a ruddy bandit," he growled.

"Ooh. That's a crack at my scar, huh? If you don't move right now, I'm going to give you a matching one!"

The Penitus Oculatus soldier looked at the standard Imperials behind him. "Would somebody show her to the dungeon?"

"I've got her," a Nord in heavy, clanking armour offered, then grabbed my arm. "Please follow me."

He led me past the smirking Penitus Oculatus agent and into Castle Dour. As soon as the door was closed, I opened my mouth to appeal to the soldier with me, but he simply released me.

"General Tullius should be straight through there," Hadvar explained with a wry grin. "Those Penitus Oculatus fools are a bit haughty for my liking."

"Hadvar!" I exclaimed, grinning widely. "Gods, it's good to see you! How are you?"

Hadvar removed his gleaming silver helmet that was standard for soldiers wearing heavy armour. A fresh bandage was wrapped tightly around his forehead, and from the way he winced when he reached for his helm, his torso was probably being tended to, as well.

"I've been better," he answered. "What about you? I hardly recognized you. Came to check in with the general and you're bickering with that charming man back there."

"Well, I actually have Greybeard business, but he wouldn't let me explain myself. And then he pissed me off." I shrugged. "Meh. There are dozens like him back home. Otherwise I've been fine."

The Nord raised his eyebrows. "Greybeards? Are they stepping into the rebellion?"

"In a sense," I offered. "Master Arngeir's agreed to convene a war council so there can be a temporary truce."

"Temporary?"

"Long enough to take care of the Dragons."

He nodded in understanding. "Ah. I see. So what makes an escaped Imperial prisoner who jumped the border from Cyrodiil ask this of Tullius for the Greybeards?"

"The escaped Imperial prisoner who jumped the border from Cyrodiil accidentally found out she was Dragonborn by killing a Dragon."

Hadvar stood silently, watchful of me, then he grinned and threw his head back with laughter. "You?! Dragonborn?!" I wasn't sure if I should be insulted, so I decided to wait for him to reign himself in and explain. "Oh how the Gods have a funny way of introducing us Nords to the Dragonborn..." He scratched his neck. "So, was it your ma or your pa that was the Dragon?"

Used to Hiemdall and Milos' teasing, I automatically smacked the soldier's arm, but he acted much like they did. "Anyway, I need to speak with Tullius. What happened that you got those wounds?"

Hadvar began leading me to the room ahead. I could already spot Tullius pacing the floor, who was wearing shinier armour than last I saw him, and a Nord woman conversing tersely with him. Hadvar stopped before entering.

"Could ask the same of you," he responded, "but I got these beauties from Karthwasten. After Helgen, I checked in at an outpost in the Reach. I wanted to head to Solitude as soon as possible, but there was a problem with the Reachmen there. I decided to help, but a few weeks later, we were ambushed by Stormcloaks. I got to Solitude late last night after taking a few of those bastards down. I may want for their blood, but I'm no fool. I was outnumbered, so I thought it would be better to warn Tullius of the Stormcloak advancements."

"Smart," I commented.

Hadvar shrugged and motioned for me to enter first, but I didn't until after Hadvar explained for me to be quiet while Tullius and the woman, whom he called Rikke, spoke with one another.

The room that the general paced in was spacious, and might have been used as a dining hall if it wasn't a base of operations for the Empire in Skyrim. The torches were unlit net to the bold banners bearing the Empire's red and gold colours, and the contrasting black Dragon. A long, well-made wooden table took up most of the space within, and the table was decorated with maps and journals of all sorts. The map of Skyrim that dominated the tabletop had red and blue flag figurines on it, no doubt to represent the Empire's territory and the Stormcloaks'.

Rikke pointed directly to the centre of the map. "I'm telling you, Ulfric's planning an attack on Whiterun!" she insisted.

I absently noticed that Tullius' white-grey hair had recently been trimmed. The short red cape attached to his armour was still flecked with small pieces. "He'd be insane to try. He doesn't have the men," the general assured her.

Rikke straightened. "That's not what my scouts report, sir. Every day more join his cause. Riften, Dawnstar, and Winterhold support him."

"It's not a cause," Tullius growled, his eyes lingering on the banner of the Empire. "It's a rebellion."

The Nord woman bravely regarded her commanding officer. "Call it whatever you like, General. The man's going to try to take Whiterun."

"Jarl Balgruuf—."

"Balgruuf refuses the Legion's right to garrison troops in his city," Rikke argued as she leaned against the table. "On the other hand, he also refuses to acknowledge Ulfric's claim."

Tullius placed his hands on the table and leaned forward, eyes narrowed at the Nord. "Well, if he wants to stand outside the protection of the Empire, fine. Let Ulfric pillage his city."

Rikke's eyes widened. "General—!"

But Tullius silenced her with a wave of his hand. "You people and your damn Jarls..."

"Sir?" Rikke stood straight again. "You can't force a Nord to accept help he hasn't asked for." She was almost pleading with the general.

General Tullius paced for a while, and then stopped at the end of the table close to Hadvar and I. "If Ulfric's making a move for Whiterun, then we need to be there to stop him," he said decisively. Then he pointed at Rikke. "Draft another letter with the usual platitudes, but this time share some of your intelligence regarding Ulfric's plans. Embellish if you have to. We'll let it seem like it's his idea."

Rikke immediately saluted the general. "Yes, sir," she agreed, and then immediately grabbed for the ink and parchment on the table.

Tullius shook his head. "You Nords and your bloody sense of honour..."

She saluted him again. "Sir."

Tullius turned around to sit in the lone chair by the table, but spotted me. His frown was automatic. "Are my men now giving free reign to anyone who wanders into the castle? Do you have some reason to be here, citizen?"

I crossed my arms and stared the older man down. His armour seemed old, but it was well taken care of. Clearly only for decorative purposes. I wondered if he even remembered me. Then again, even Hadvar needed to take a closer look, and we'd escaped together. Tullius probably forgot about me as quickly as a rotting corpse.

"I was at Helgen," I stated.

"Right..." Tullius sat in his chair. "Helgen... One of the prisoners, if I recall correctly. With the Argonian."

I nodded, a bit surprised with him. "Well, yeah."

Tullius' eyes moved to the Nord soldier behind me. "Hadvar. I see your wounds have been looked after."

"No Stormcloak will have the pleasure of keeping me out of the Legion, sir," Hadvar replied, saluting the general. "If I may, my friend here helped me to escape Helgen. I'll vouch for whatever she has to say. Within reason, of course."

"Of course," Tullius agreed. "Well, soldier, report to Legate Rikke for your assignments. You're a Praefect now."

"Yessir. Thank-you, sir." Hadvar saluted the general once more, clapped me on the shoulder, and then approached the vigorously writing Legate.

Tullius nodded to Hadvar, and then regarded me with much less animosity than before. His lips were still pursed, though. "So what brings a former prisoner from Helgen to the Imperial stronghold in Solitude? I doubt it's to get your head chopped off."

"It concerns the Dragons, General Tullius." I was much more willing to call him by his rank now that he wasn't so uptight with me. "I have a message from the Greybeards."

"The Greybeards?" I noticed that Rikke had paused in her writing. "What do those old hermits want with me?"

"They want to convene a peace council in High Hrothgar," I explained evenly. "They're hoping to discuss this war."

"Why? There's nothing to discuss as long as that traitor Ulfric is in arms against the Empire."

I frowned at him. "We need a truce to this war until the whole Dragon thing has been solved."

General Tullius crossed his arms. "They are getting to be a problem... But I wasn't sent to Skyrim to fight Dragons. My job is to quell this rebellion, and I intend to do just that, Dragons or no Dragons."

Frowning deeper than before, I approached the map. "Look at the Holds you have. Look at the forts. Ulfric is probably going to gain ground on you soon. Your soldiers are tired and wounded, and could do with a rest, especially with what happened at Karthwasten. But Ulfric's men are feeling the pressure you're dealing them. If you go to this council, you'll have a good chance to find out more about Ulfric's plans from the man himself, if he's as reckless as is to be believed. The best time to do this is at a position of strength, and right now, you're in that position."

"Fair enough." Tullius inspected the map while stroking his chin. "We're driving the Stormcloaks back well enough at the moment, but we're already overstretched. That's what comes of trying to win a war with a bare handful of legions. If the Empire would just give me the reinforcements I've requested...!"

"Why won't it?" I asked.

Tullius pointed to the map of Cyrodiil. "Most of the Legion is tied down on the border with the Aldmeri Dominion. The Empire can't afford to risk weakening Cyrodiil's defences. From the Imperial City, our war here is just a sideshow—an interlude before the main event against the Thalmor resumes."

"Will you come to the peace council, then?" I pressed.

Tullius took one long, tense moment to decide. "Yes, yes. Fine. I'll come to this Greybeard council. For all the good it will do."

One down, one to go.