Chapter 11: Jack of All Traitors

Essentially, wearing Stormcloak armor wasn't too different from wearing the Imperial kind, except for one important feature: it sure as Oblivion was a lot warmer. This made sense, of course, but it struck Castorius that he'd not before thought to question the Empire's refusal to upgrade their attire into something more suitable for the northern climate. And so far he'd been in the habit of questioning them all.

Almost certainly this was due to their very Cyrodiilian mulish stubbornness, and their standard wrongheaded demand for uniformity. But whatever it was, it was yet another call on their part Castorius did not hesitate to call absolutely idiotic.

That list just kept getting longer and longer.

Now, his legs nice and warm under the pair of leather trousers, he though back to those couple winters he'd served here so far, suffering though the frigid winds and the biting frost. Each spring, he couldn't have given enough praise to whatever incompetent fools ruled the universe, once the sun started to offer some actual warmth instead of just sitting up there in the sky like some painted-on decoy—mocking the folks down below fooled into thinking that the thing might have served any sort of purpose besides just hanging pointlessly in the firmament.

Yes, he could have certainly used these things earlier.

As warm as he might have physically been, though, a chilling sense of uncertainly gnawed at his guts. How could this possibly end well? He was not trusted by either of the factions whose trust he was supposed to gain, and he didn't even know which one it was he was ultimately supposed to betray.

It was hard enough trying to keep up on who wanted him dead more badly.

That, in itself, wouldn't have even been all that bad, if he'd only had some clear idea of why they wanted him dead to begin with. If Torygg didn't really think Castorius a traitor, and if he didn't actually know about him and Elisif, then why send him into the lion's den? Castorius had not for a second bought the whole "spy for the Empire" story, and since the High King had himself admitted to not believing that Ulfric would be fooled by his purported conversion, what other reason to order him here if not to be taken out by the Stormcloaks?

And, on the other hand, if the original purpose was simply to have Castorius killed, why bother interrupting the execution? None of it added up.

It wasn't any better with Ulfric. For all his chumminess and jovial good cheer, Castorius knew now—after having had some time to reflect—that there had been a clear subtext to his conviviality. The fine print in Stormcloak's deceptively warm acceptance of Castorius into his army was loud and clear: you will not breathe my air for long. There had not been any briefing as to the nature of the "mission" he'd been sent on, but it was bound to be something nasty. Castorius half expected to be attacked at any moment, maybe take an arrow from nowhere—just like those wolves had.

And yet: if they wanted him dead, why save him from them in the first place?

Frustrated by the circular nature of his mind—unable not only to find satisfactory answers, but confused about the questions themselves—Castorius scratched his head under the loose-fitting Stormcloak helmet. The heads of these northern mooks being so gods-damned large, they'd not had anything in their stores to comfortably fit around his own sophisticatedly-shaped skull. And there'd been no question of them even considering Castorius' perfectly sensible request to simply wear his old helmet. It would scarcely be the first thing to mark him somewhat different from your average pale and light-eyed Nord. With his olive skin and hazel eyes, nobody would in a million years take him for a legitimate Stormcloak.

An Imperial fighting for the freedom of Skyrim? Surely nobody had heard of anything that unlikely. And, as Castorius had been taught, when it came to war, odds were pretty much everything.

His behind sat uncomfortably on the saddle, and it seemed to be only through great pains his horse tolerated him on its back. It kept shifting and snorting discontentedly, shaking his mane every other second, as if it could not itself believe what a demeaning load it had been forced to carry—and felt no qualms about showing its distaste, either. Clearly its opinion of Castorius had been lowered since the last time.

He was was some twenty strides outside of the encampment, waiting there to rendezvous with the contact who was to take him on this first mission of his. He supposed he would probably not meet his assassin just yet, but was still not looking forward to this person, whoever it was. He'd generally experienced enough scorn for one day's needs, and that particular art was apparently the Stormcloaks' second nature. Little wonder, of course, for they had much less reason to love the Empire than Castorius did—and his own storage was more or less raided to its masonry.

But how to explain that to these hard-faced, butter-wasting, swill-swigging, manner-challenged mountain bumpkins?

As fate might have it, at the precise moment he was thinking about what he'd give to see a friendly face, a familiar voice came from behind him. "Well, well," it said. "You can thank your lucky stars Torygg didn't want to defile his nice chopping-block with your no-good, cowardly, and—apparently—treacherous blood."

Castorius did not need to turn around to know who it was, but he couldn't stop his eyes from bulging out of their sockets upon registering the sight of Roggvir riding his horse beside him. The Nord was wearing the exact same Stormcloak armor as him, and on top that a grin so smug it could be used as an exemplary piece at the Academy of Arrogant Pricks.

"Roggie!" Castorius cried. "What in the—" His brain was waging a war against itself in the face of the incongruity, while the smirk on the lips of his old comrade-in-arms was getting ever wider. Castorius gestured at the man's gray armor. "How?"

Roggie's eyes twinkled with mirth. "You think you're the only one can pose for what they're not?"

"And that would be . . . ?"

Tilting back his head back, the man bellowed a laugh. "You mean, am I a Nord posing for an Imperial, or an Imperial posing for a Nord?" His grin had a devious edge to it. "I guess the same question could be asked of you, my friend."

"I honestly have no idea what's going on anymore," said Castorius.

Roggie jerked his head. "Let's move. We'll see if I can clear some of those clouds out of your sky, eh?"

"You're the one supposed to take me on this 'mission'?" Castorius asked, spurring his horse after his friend. The animal moved reluctantly.

"That's me," Roggie said.

"And you—" Castorius took a quick look around, lowered his voice,"you're another one of Torygg's spies?"

With a shrewd sideways look, and doing nothing to appear surreptitious, Roggie replied, "Or am I originally one of Ulfric's spies? You're the clever one, you tell me."

Castorius did not feel the least bit clever right now. "Don't mess with me, Rog. I'm confused enough as it is."

Roggie let out another laugh. "I beg to differ. I'm confident there are myriads of layers of confusion I'd be able to pile on top of you—and with increasing levels of amusement, too."

It had ever been Roggie's pleasure to pick on Castorius, and that had clearly not changed over the past few weeks. How could someone not all that smart himself make a man feel so stupid? It was a rare gift, to be sure.

Castorius responded like he always did, simply stared at the man with tired resignation.

"Alright, alright," Roggie finally conceded. "As usual, you make it too easy for me."

Castorius shrugged. "Never claimed to be a difficult man."

"And that's exactly what I like about you!"

Castorius frowned at the smirking man, trying to detect a slight, couldn't, and gave up. "So?"

Roggie in turn looked around, before replying, "I do work for Torygg, in a sense."

"In a sense?"

"Well, in the same sense I work for Ulfric."

"That doesn't make it any clearer."

Smirk. "The bottom line is: I work for me."

Now that was something Castorius could understand, could easily relate to. Though it was hardly the thing he'd ever expected to come out of this man's mouth. While never showing the same sort of vehement loyalty and zeal that Captain Aldis did, Roggie had always struck Castorius as a genuinely loyal guard with not much more ambition than to do his work right, and maybe get on Castorius' nerves in the process. But an opportunist like himself?

"You look surprised," Roggie said.

"Me? No! Well, yeah, alright. A little."

Roggie laughed. "And they say you can't bullshit a bullshitter!"

"And who would this bull in question be?"

"Bulls, my friend, are abundant upon this land. It is simply a question of who is man enough to grab the horns."

Castorius frowned. "This analogy just stopped making sense."

"Sense! That's your problem. You always want everything to make sense."

"I'm not entirely sure that's a fair—"

"You fancy yourself something of hustler, don't you Castor?"

He thought about it for a while. "Well, I've had my moments."

Roggie snorted. "Amateur, is what you are!"

As far as Castorius was concerned, that may just have been the most insulting thing he'd heard that day, and that was saying something.

Before he could reprimand the Nord, however, the man went on, "But stick with me and you will find out exactly what you can achieve if you keep your eye out for the price."

"Stick with you? Thought we were running an errand for Ulfric."

"We are," replied Roggie. "We most certainly are. But let this be your first lesson. A man can easily be in two places at once while standing in the same place."

"Is that supposed to make sense?"

Based on his self-satisfied expression, to Roggie, apparently, it did. "Take me for instance," he said. "Where do I stand? Torygg thinks I'm his boy, Ulfric thinks I'm his boy . . ."

"And let me guess," Castorius said tiredly, "you're nobody's boy?" Was this blowhard really the same person he thought he'd known for this entire time in Skyrim?

Roggie wagged his finger at him. "See—clever." The smirk on his face was slowly making Castorius want to punch it. "I knew you would understand, though."

"So . . . you're somehow playing Torygg and Ulfric against each other? Manipulating them to, what, ignite an actual war?"

Roggvir blew out air dismissively. "As if!" He shook his head, like it was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard. "How do you imagine that would work?"

"I don't know. Thought you were supposed to be the superior hustler here all of a sudden. You've certainly played me for a fool all this time."

Roggvir narrowed his eyes, still smirking. "Do I detect jealousy?"

"No," Castorius said curtly. "Not from me."

Uh, huh," said Roggie. "Whatever you say." He twisted his head to the side and cracked his neck. "Anyway, a war is the last thing we'll be seeing around here. Mark my words."

"That's not what I gather from Ulfric himself."

Roggie's eyes betrayed nothing but amusement. "Is that so?"

"Well, he told me he was probably planning to make a move by the end of the year." Not exactly the truth, but Castorius was itching to rub it in the man's face that apparently Ulfric had trusted Castorius with some information Roggie himself had not been let in on.

But the Nord simply snorted. "If you need any more proof that Ulfric does not trust you for shit, there you have it." As Castorius frowned at him, he elaborated, "Ulfric never tells anyone what he plans to do next. Everybody knows that." He gave a somewhat condescending look. "Well, anyone who knows things, anyway."

"Seems evident the man is planning something, by the way he's gearing up, setting up camps and the like."

"Or," Roggie stretched the word, "he may just be testing Torygg. Provoking him to see how he'll respond."

Castorius shook his head. "I think you're testing me."

"Only like a smith tests his steel, my friend."

Castorius' fist was really itching to make contact with those teeth.

"Well, I already feel heated up and pounded at," he said, "I take it the cold water comes next?"

Roggie laughed. "You may be more right than you know."

"Are you going to tell me what you're doing here?"

"It is as you might expect," Roggie said. "Torygg sent me here to spy on Ulfric, who in turn is of the belief that I'm spying for him. Though, I have to admit, personally I'm not at all sure what either of them really think of me."

Torygg was known to keep a careful eye on Ulfric, despite the apparent leeway he'd given him. That had been why he'd sent Castorius to Windhelm in the first place. It made sense, then, that Ulfric should also have his own spies.

But if Torygg thought Roggie was already doing his work in the Pale, why send Castorius? "What am I doing here, then?" he asked.

"Beats me," said Roggie, shrugging.

Castorius' frowned. "What? Surely you know!"

"I swear I don't." He looked genuinely apologetic. "I knew you were supposed to be keeping an eye on Ulfric at Windhelm, and must admit was dumbstruck when they had you arrested. I didn't take you for the corrupt type." The irony of that statement did not escape Castorius, but apparently did the Nord. "So I tried my damnedest to fish out the information as to your incarceration but couldn't get anything out of anyone. People around Solitude can be quite tight-lipped when need be. So I just waited."

"You could have tried freeing me," said Castorius, though it sounded childish to even his own ears.

Roggie rolled his eyes. "Yes, of course I could have. Fought the guard with my bare hands. Maybe fly you to safety at the top of the Throat of the World on the back of a Dragon."

"You could have put out a good word," Castorius muttered.

"Stop being childish," Roggie said. At least he'd stopped smirking now. "The bottom line is: I knew they were not really going to take your head. After all, would scarcely make any sense to execute you for treason."

"What makes you say that?"

"First of all, there's no pretext for it. Nobody's ever been executed on account of any sort of treason that had not at least something to do with somebody losing their life." He hawked and spat in the shrubs. "And second, if Torygg doesn't go after Ulfric, allows him to uphold a personal army, and otherwise pretty much lets him act freely, then why take the head of someone who was merely dealing with the man?"

"A warning?" Castorius tried.

Roggie wasn't listening. "At first I couldn't figure out why they bothered to make such a show of it. But then I realized it was probably just part of Torygg's double tactic to make the citizens loyal to the Empire feel he was doing something, and at the same time scare those who thought of lending a hand to Ulfric."

"That's what I was—"

"Then, upon having a supposedly casual conversation with Aldis, I was finally able to coax it from him that Torygg was planning to send you here." Roggie shook his head, and gave a little laugh. "Oh, Aldis. So manipulable underneath all that hard posturing."

"He didn't tell you why Torygg sent me here?" Castorius asked.

"Nope. But I was quick on my feet. Before they brought you to him, I approached the High King and suggested—pretending not to know anything about your case—that I return to Ulfric for a supposed 'report'. Torygg seemed to suspect nothing, and concurred. Then I rode to Ulfric to let them know you were in all likeliness coming to 'join' him."

"So that's how Ulfric knew!"

Roggie's smirk had returned. "Well, how else?"

Castorius narrowed his eyes. "You told him I was sent by Torygg?"

Roggie's astonishment seemed too spontaneous to be fake, but then who could tell? "I wouldn't do that!" he exclaimed. "Why would I want to get you in trouble?"

Castorius made no reply, but studied his supposed friend with suspicious eyes.

Roggie shook his head disapprovingly, but his smirk had not been entirely extinguished. "I told him next to nothing. Just that you were coming, that I did not know why, but that you had somehow managed to escape and wanted to join the rebellion."

"You told him that? How did you know that was my cover story."

"I didn't! I guessed!" The man's expression was more than a little self-satisfied.

"What else did you say?"

Roggie shrugged. "Nothing much. That I knew you, and could vouch for you. That you might prove useful." He paused, arching his brows at Castorius. "And here you are."

"Useful, how?" Castorius asked, frowning.

"Oh, I fed him a story about you being well connected in the military. Knew about tactics used, strategic points, all that. I explained that this was the reason you could have promised to supply him with Imperial weaponry, too." He cast a knowing, mischievous look at Castorius. "That's what you did, didn't you?"

How did he know that? Castorius did not like this one bit, but there was no use denying it, either. He didn't look Roggie in the eye, just nodded.

Roggie gave a dirty cackle. "Oh, you little weasel! How did you imagine you would pull that one off?"

Truth was, he hadn't. Promises were easy to make, especially when offered good payment in return. Sometimes that was all you needed to do: to have the right intention and the will, and the rest would fall into place on its own.

Other times, well, it didn't.

Eager to change the subject, Castorius said, "So Ulfric doesn't know I'm supposed to spy on him." That, at least, felt like something of a relief.

"I have an idea he might," said Roggie.

"What?"

Roggie shrugged. "He's a pretty clever man, that Stormcloak. I would not sell him short."

"But you said—"

"I said I fed him the story, not that he swallowed it. Could well be he didn't."

Castorius sighed. "Well that's just great!" He shot Roggie a sharp look. "So what good are you?"

"Relax. It's not so simple. If Ulfric knows, it is likely he knows you know, too."

"Huh?"

"And probably that you know that he knows that you know. And that you know that Torygg knows, and that Torygg also knows that Ulfric knows. And that Torygg knows, and that you know, and that you all know that you all know that you all know . . . " Roggie smiled. "You know?"

Castorius shook his head. "No."

Roggie simply rode ahead, as if judging the matter dealt with.

Castorius rubbed his brow. "I have to say all this crisscrossing espionage is really messing with my head."

"You'll get used to it."

"I doubt it."

He was too tired to press the issue any further. He looked at the sky, some individual clouds starting to gather. The wind was blowing cold, and bit Castorius' cheeks uncomfortably. This, supposedly, was summer at The Pale. They were headed North, but where exactly, Castorius didn't know.

"So where are we going?"

Roggie did not turn to look. "We're on a mission to win Ulfric a fleet."

"A what?"

Roggie gave a sidelong glance. "A fleet. You know, a bunch of ships. Made of wood, sails and all that. Move like a charm on water."

"Yes, thank you, " Castorius said. "What does Ulfric want with a fleet?"

"Hmm, I wonder. What could he ever?"

Castorius replied with a stare.

"Well," Roggie then said. "the Empire's got all the ships they need provided for them by the East Empire Trading Company. Ulfric has, what, a shipping boat and an elderly captain with a peg leg? You do the math."

"You only need a fleet if you plan to go to war," Castorius pointed out.

"You got that right."

"Thought you said Ulfric was not going to go to war."

"I did."

"And you're how sure of this?"

"I'm not unsure about it."

"Uh huh."

"Look," Roggie said, turning to look Castorius with an expression like a patient father talking to a yammering child, "it's one thing to plan to be going to war, and another to look like you are. You follow?"

"I guess."

"And Ulfric wants nothing more than to give out the impression that he means business."

"Seems that way."

"You see, he's desperate to assemble a convincing enough military force. He believes that to achieve this completely, he'll need ships. He quite rightly fears the Company's warships, and is desperate to get a countering force for them. Desperate enough, that is, that's he's willing to go to some shady types for it." Roggie grinned. "And this is where we step in."

"We're the shady types?"

Roggie laughed. "Oh no! You're about to meet some people that make you and I look like Aldis in comparison."

The prospect did not sound good in Castorius' ears. He pushed the matter aside. "But, " he began, deciding not to care that even to his own ears he was starting to sound like an argumentative child, "I still don't quite buy it. There's no way Ulfric will be able to intimidate the most powerful military force in Tamriel."

Roggie's face took on an incredulously amused expression.

Castorius frowned. "What?"

"Are you truly that gullible? Don't tell me you've bought into that whole ridiculous self-congratulatory, chest thumping nonsense the Empire spews." When Castorius replied with a nonplussed stare, Roggie rolled his eyes and laughed. "But of course you would have. After all, most do."

Castorius did not feel good being lumped up with "most". "What are you talking about?"

Roggie stared at him for a second. "The Empire's all but broke, Castor. They're running lower and lower on funding for their military, they owe both their arms and legs to private industries they depend on—such as the Trading Company . . . "

"The Company? But I thought—"

"Yes, you thought so," said Roggie impatiently. "You and everybody else. But no, the Company is not funded by the Emperor. If anything, nowadays it's the other way around."

"Wow."

"You said it. Not to mention the Thalmor pressuring him from left and right, imposing their demands like this idiotic ban on the worship of Talos for example. It's really only a matter of time until the Dominion will decide to make their move. Let me tell you, the next Great War will be end of this particular empire and a beginning of a new one. And that one, my friend, will make us yearn for these times. I can tell you that much."

Castorius felt a nauseating cold in the pit of his stomach. "So, what you're saying—"

"What I'm saying is that Ulfric has the right idea. What the Thalmor fear is that the Imperial provinces will one by one declare independence, and then together challenge the Aldmeri Dominion. They need the Empire weak but united. That's why they see Ulfric as such a threat. They would have gotten him out of the picture long before were it not for Torygg."

"Torygg?"

"Yes!" Roggie laughed. "Would you believe it? It's like he has a soft spot for Ulfric, I swear. And to tell you the truth, those two may end up needing each other more than they would ever think. More than anyone would. Personally I would not be surprised if Ulfric ultimately ended up convincing Torygg to declare independence."

"Really? And you base this on personal observation?"

Roggie shrugged. "Among other things."

"Wow."

Castorius had to take it all in for a while. He'd of course known of the uncomfortable relationship between the Dominion and the Empire, but had had no idea the Empire was truly doing so badly. On the other hand, how could he be sure of Roggie's assessment? He didn't really feel like he could be sure of much anything at the moment.

The whole thing felt uncomfortably much like a gamble.

He sighed. Above them, the wind was rapidly rounding up the clouds like a herd of dirty sheep. Castorius hoped they would be getting indoors before it started to rain. In his mind, though, he was fairly sure he'd wind up getting soaked.

One way or another.